


It's a Safeguarding Issue

by Guessimaclotpole



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur sings, Asexual Character, Closeted Character, Drinking, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Gay Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Hurt Merlin, I don't know how to tag something so long, I don't want to giveaway spoilers, Jealousy, Loss, Love Triangles, M/M, Masturbation, Merlin Sings, Modern Era, Music, Musician!Arthur, Musician!Merlin, Musicians, Pain, PianoPlaying!Arthur, Pianoplaying!merlin, Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Tattoos, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, Work In Progress, lots of pain, piano playing, student!Merlin, teacher!arthur - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-07-07 11:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 98,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15907086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guessimaclotpole/pseuds/Guessimaclotpole
Summary: Merlin Modern AUArthur Pendragon is a 23-year-old NQT preparing for his first year of teaching Music to international students at Durham University; and he is all kinds of stressed and nervous. So, when cocky northerner Emrys ends up dumped in his class, his first year of teaching becomes anything other than what he’d expected.Emrys Smith is a 20-year-old talented local student who has applied for the music course at Durham University with a full scholarship, and with pressure from his Mother. He was the only local student to pass the entry requirements and on his first day he is thrown in with the international students. There he meets his lecturer, Arthur Pendragon, and fresh meat is always the easiest target.After a horrible event takes place, Arthur and Emrys form a bond which they can’t allow to become anything more than a standard Teacher/Student relationship- but Arthur learns of Emrys’ dark background and can’t help but feel tenderly for him.Only after Arthur pushes Emrys away does he realise he’s head over heels for his student.





	1. Prologue - Graduation (A)

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning:  
> Contains scenes of Sexual Abuse and Emotional Abuse involving one of the main characters.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> All of the involved characters featured are of a legal age. Although this story explores a student/teacher relationship, I do not support such things.  
> I have tagged this as dub/con just in case.  
> All characters belong to the Writers and Creators of BBC Merlin.
> 
> I absolutely need to thank Samira for agreeing to my beta through this, even though she knows it's going to kill her and she will probably hate me. You can find her tumblr here: http://das-alien-vom-planeten-wooh.tumblr.com
> 
> I am very lucky to have made a friend in her and I am extremely grateful for our shared interests.
> 
> I would also like to thank those of you who have read my other fics and who have left kudos and comments. I would not be writing this long-ass story without you!

It had been a _long_ 8 years in and out of Education after Arthur had left school. There had been stress, parties, fallouts, make-outs and the odd broken guitar- but he was here now so it had been worth it.

He stood gazing at the beautiful tapestry of red brick in front of him, reaching high into the early summer sun. The courtyard was filled with a gentle glow of light, and around him students and their families chattered excitedly to one another. Arthur looked amongst the other students and then down at his gown. He probably could have chosen a better suit; the red on his hood clashed horribly with the Burgundy of his tuxedo… but it didn’t matter; he was Arthur Pendragon. He’d pull it off, no doubt.

He took a moment to adjust his grey pencil tie and pulled a small compact mirror from his blazer pocket. His hair had held its place. He gave it one last ruffle with his hand- the messier the better. The golden bed hair was a winner every time. As he placed the mirror back in his pocket, the unmistakeable squeal of his crazy big sister pierced the peaceful air.

“Arthur! Look at you my dapper baby brother! You look so handsome!” she fawned over him, kissing his cheeks as though she were his grandmother and not an utterly flawless 26-year-old. Arthur did a brief head count and, _yeah,_ he could see at least 14 guys staring, genuinely open-mouthed, at Morgana in her deep purple bodycon dress and Doc Martins. Arthur laughed to himself; thirteen years on and she still hadn’t completely left her goth phase. He thanked her for the compliments and made sure to return the favour. She really did look flawless in anything that she wore.

After a few minutes of small talk, Arthur felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

 

_**Elena: 9:02am** _  
_[I'm late. I don't know how you expect me to find anything in this tip, Arthur. I'm in a taxi. I'll be there as soon as I can.]_

 

Arthur sighed to himself. He tried not to be disappointed, but he thought she’d at least try and make the effort today of all days. This was everything he had worked towards, and he did it all to try and secure their future.

Morgana noticed the tension in her brother’s face.

“Arthur, what’s she said?” she asked, worry emblazoned on her striking features.

It wasn’t her business to worry about Arthur.

“Nothing, she’s running a little late is all” replied Arthur, and they made their way to the graduation bar. Nothing like a rare liquid breakfast on sunny morning like this.

 

* * *

 

Arthur was just finishing his bottle of Desperados when Elena appeared in the doorway. He gave her a winning smile and waved her over. She hurried in their direction in a Burgundy jumpsuit that Arthur had bought for her. It was obviously a good choice, as it accentuated all the curves in her figure perfectly. Her sleek blonde hair lay like a sheet of gold over her shoulders, and she was wearing _those_ boots with the buckles that Arthur liked so much.

She’d actually made an effort then.

As she approached, Arthur stood from his bar stool and held out an arm as though to embrace her – but she swiftly dodged his invitation and moved to kiss Morgana’s cheek instead. As the two shared polite greetings, Arthur reached his hand down to brush his fingers against Elena’s, but she pulled them away- her face giving away nothing.

Arthur and Elena had been an official item since April, where they hit it off at a house party. Elena was an Art student who still had a year of study before she graduated with her Bachelor’s Degree. At first, their relationship had been everything they could have dreamed of. They went on cute dates to local cinemas, theatres, museums and bowling alleys. They even travelled to Brighton for a weekend. This was Arthur’s favourite part of their time together so far. They had planned the trip based on local weather reports of a ‘scorching weekend’, but, naturally, it absolutely lashed down. They ran up and down the beach together in the pouring rain in their summer clothes like absolute idiots, and when they’d gone back to the hotel, Elena became his first. His first proper girlfriend, his first love, and his first many other things as well.

Since Christmas though, Elena had been distant. She never wanted to spend any time with Arthur, but then repeatedly accused him of not spending enough time with her. Just as she had last night when he was applying for his Masters degree. They weren’t intimate anymore either- in fact, last night was the first time they had slept in the same bed for months. Elena favoured staying in her accommodation where there was ‘less noise’.

Arthur truly was trying to hold on to what they had. He had committed so much of his life to her, so he assumed that it was just the stress of University getting to her. Times like this, however, made him think otherwise.

As Morgana finished her Rekorderlig, the three of them headed to the photography floor for the family portrait Arthur had paid for. When he arrived, he looked at the family ahead of him in the queue. A young lady was sat on a stool in her strikingly red Doctorate Gown, surrounded by what Arthur assumed was her Mother, Father, Grandparents and Siblings. He felt Morgana’s hand settle on his forearm. A reassurance, because she had witnessed the same thing four years ago at her Graduation, three months after the passing of their Father. Arthur marvelled at his sister’s ability to even carry on with her University work, let alone to pass her PGCE with flying colours. Arthur had to take two years out to try and get his affairs in order. He took over his Father’s job for a while, but it was never what he wanted to do. He supposed the only reason he did in the first place was because if he hadn’t of went out that night, he would have been there to see his Father’s sudden symptoms.

Morgana often reassured Arthur that it wasn’t his fault, but this had no effect. He’d chosen a night of alcohol fuelled leisure over a planned football night- and in turn returned home to his Father’s still body slumped on the sofa.

When Morgana squeezed his arm, Arthur realised that there were tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away. He turned to see his sister’s forgiving eyes searching his for an answer, but he wouldn’t speak about his Father any more. He couldn’t. Instead he focused on straightening out his outfit ready for their picture to be taken.

The photographer spent what seemed like an eternity positioning and re-positioning them, and fondling with their outfits and their hair. Arthur had to fight the urge to bat the man’s hand away more than once when he continually brushed Elena’s hair away from her face. After angling Arthur’s head in such a way that he could feel his neck muscles straining against his skin, the photographer stepped back and snapped a few photos. After a nod of approval, everyone simultaneously exhaled and slumped forwards.

The photographer approached Arthur to show him the images, and Arthur had to choke back a laugh at how fake it seemed. Elena with a ‘proud’ hand on his shoulder and a comically false smile plastered on her face. Arthur with his left hand atop hers, and carrying his scroll bound with red ribbon in his right. Morgana stood at his left rear, the only one with a genuine gleam on her face and somehow managing to seem like the focus of the entire picture. Arthur shook his head slightly at the irony of it. The day he’d been looking forward to for years, already on a downward spiral, yet somehow represented by a picture that looked like it belonged in a Happy Families collection.

After giving the photographer a nod of approval, a tannoy sounded out through the halls asking all graduates to make their way to the graduation hall. Morgana swung forward to hug Arthur, who then moved to kiss Elena. She turned her head at the last minute, forcing him to kiss her cheek instead; which was something that didn’t go unnoticed. As Arthur walked away, he turned to see Morgana raise a threatening finger at his girlfriend.

 

* * *

 

The service dragged on for about an hour. Chancellors and Vice Chancellors, Honorary Graduates and High Doctors all gave speeches before the graduates were presented with their qualifications and handshakes from all sides. As the service was called to a close, the graduates adorned their hats and were dismissed from the hall row-by-row. Arthur pulled out his phone and messaged Morgana, before actually reading the four missed messages he’d received from her during the service.

 

__**Morgana: 9:56am**  
M: Elena has just gone home]  
M: [Next time you choose your girlfriends, Arthur, choose more wisely]  
M: [Sorry, I'm just annoyed. I'll be watching you. I'm just a little bit to the right of the stage. Best of luck baby bro, don't fall over!]  
M: [Oh, before you send some sort of angry scathing message, she insulted Dad]  
**Morgana: 11:09am**  
__**A: [I'll meet you again in the grad bar xx]**

_  
_

_Well isn’t that just great?_ He thought to himself. He’d had a feeling Morgana had said something but he hadn’t let himself dwell on it. Rather than heading straight to the bar, Arthur made his way back out into the courtyard to call Elena.

_*brrrp brrrp*_

_*brrrp brrrp*_

“Come on, answer.”

_*brrrp brrrrp*_

_*brrrp brr-*_

“What do you want, Arthur?” came Elena’s exhausted voice from the other end of the line.

He hadn’t planned on what to say. Hell, he didn’t even know what on earth had happened, so he just let his mouth do the talking.

“Come on Elena, why did you leave?  You know what Morgana is like, she just takes things a bit too far sometimes. Today is supposed to be for us! I’ve done all of this for us, so you should be here celebrating with me. I can’t possibly enjoy this day without you here.”

Arthur waited for a reply, but he was met with a crushing silence.

“Hello?” he said, for a second assuming that the line had failed, but then came Elena’s sigh.

A few things happened in this moment. Firstly, Arthur knew Elena’s ‘I’m angry at you’ sigh and _that_ wasn’t it; there was something deeper than anger in it. Then he realised she hadn’t argued back while he was trying to speak, but she _always_ argued back.

Then there was a sniffle. She was crying.

It was in this last moment, that Arthur knew. And suddenly, he realised that everything had been leading up to this; he was just an idiot for not seeing it. All of the one-sided conversations, the half-arsed attempts to see each other, and the consecutive nights apart meant one thing.

Although he was surrounded by people and by the chatter of hundreds of people, all sound seemed to disappear whilst his brain pieced this all together.

“You’re...” he tried his best to spit out the words but he couldn’t bring himself to.

On the other end of the line, Elena sniffled and sobbed.

“Yeah, I am. I’m sorry” and with a final whimper, she hung up.

Arthur stood with his phone still against his ear, just staring into the crowds of people celebrating around him. He watched people hugging, posing for pictures and throwing their hats into the air.

It was over.

Just like that.

 

* * *

 

When Arthur finally re-entered the bar, he saw a glass of what he hoped was something very strong on the table in front of Morgana. She embraced him as soon as he hurried over.

“She’s broken up with you” she whispered, and it wasn’t a question- it was a statement. Arthur could only nod into her shoulder in response. He let out a sigh, surprised by his lack of tears. He was definitely upset, but a part of him knew.

He pushed himself back from his sister and grabbed the glass. He gave Morgana a questioning look and she just wiggled her eyebrows and smirked with challenge. They often communicated non-verbally like this. After living with your sister for 20 years, you tend to find these things easy. Having said that, pretty much everyone Arthur knew got annoyed by it.

He swilled the cup and thought, ‘ _fuck it’._ He was going to make sure he had a good time today. This was everything he’d dreamed of and he wasn’t going to let this tear at his conscience. He lifted the cold glass to his mouth and as the liquid burned down his throat, he thought not of Elena- but how proud his Father would be.

As he slammed the glass back to the table, he felt an unwelcome numbness in his mouth and began to splutter. Morgana giggled to herself before giving Arthur a proud punch in the arm.

“If you can neck a triple whiskey and coke like that, then we’re in for a fun day”.

 

* * *

 

And of course, Morgana knew Arthur better than he knew himself most of the time; and he was definitely having a good time. After leaving graduation, they trawled through several bars before heading back to Morgana’s apartment. Here, they were just making their way through the last of a bottle of Pernod at Morgana’s dining table when Arthur’s phone rang in his pocket. He thought about just ignoring it, because it was a Private Number- but then he remembered Morgana giving his number to that redhead earlier on and he could really do with something to do tonight.

“Hello?” he said, placing the phone to his ear, while Morgana sat staring at him, her tongue perched between her teeth and a mischievous smile plastered on her drunken face.

“Hello, is this Mister Arthur Pendragon?”

Well unless that redhead’s voice had dropped a few octaves and aged by thirty year, he certainly wasn’t speaking to her. Suddenly feeling very irritated, Arthur decided he wanted to get the call over with as quickly as possible. He suggestively raised his eyebrows at Morgana and then gave her a wink, causing her to lean forward in her chair with excitement. He stood out of his chair and began to pace around the table.

“Why yes, you have reached the very single Arthur Pendragon… How might I entertain you tonight?”

Arthur should definitely not have let Morgana have the last of the Pernod, he thought as it sprayed out of her nose and mouth before she tried to stifle her hysterical laughter. Maybe Arthur’s fake seductive voice needed some work.

There was a brisk cough from the other end of the line before the old gentleman spoke again, this time with a bit more authority.

“Mr Pendragon, this is Professor Gaius of Durham University. I _was_ calling to say that after reviewing your application and your success in our two video interviews, you had been appointed as our new Part-Time music teacher, should you still wish to accept it?”

The atmosphere in the room had changed rather drastically. Arthur felt all the colour drain from his face and Morgana must have realised something wasn’t right because she was now stood in front of him flapping her arms.. why was she flapping he- Oh! Yes, a phone conversation requires speech from both parties, and right now Arthur was opening and closing his mouth like a wound up magikarp. He had, after all, just fake flirted with an esteemed Professor from a prestigious University. And just as he tried to assemble some sort of formal sentence in his brain, his drunken mouth decided to intervene.

“Should I still wish?! Of course I wish! I mean- Yes! I’d love to take the job if it’s still available!” Morgana’s face broke out into possible what was the biggest smile Arthur had ever seen, and she squeaked and started bouncing on her toes.

“Well then, I shall send you an email with all the information you will need Mr Pendragon. And a word of advice before you be working with me? At least ask me to dinner first.”

And then just like that, Professor Gaius ended the call and Arthur Pendragon, fresh out of University had landed a teaching job! If the staff there were anything like the Professor then he was sure to get on amazingly.

“Please tell me that you genuinely have a job, Artie!” squealed Morgana. Arthur nodded his head and ran at her, scooping her up onto his shoulder and spinning her around. A dizziness crept into the spaces behind his eyes and he placed Morgana back down on her chair, his head still giddy with excessive alcohol consumption.

“What even is this day?!” Arthur breathed as he dragged his hands down his face.

“Come on, I want a sexy picture that screams ‘I am Arthur Pendragon, I am an esteemed teacher at Durham University and I’m also very on the market!’” Morgana said, mocking his voice in a not too bad impression.

And, for once, Arthur decided to humour her. He positioned himself in front of her balcony window overlooking the city of London, under the darkening sky. She tossed him his blazer, and he flung it over his shoulder, resting it on his forefinger. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his thick-rimmed glasses only briefly reflected the city lights before him.

Morgana turned off the lights, adamant on doing things properly, and turned on a table lamp for ‘seductive atmospherics’ as she called it.

Morgana snapped the picture before opening it to stare at it.

“Arthur Pendragon! I know you are my brother, and I vow to wash my mouth out for saying it, but if I were not your sister I would say you were 100% bangable material!”

Arthur started at his ridiculous sister, shaking his head before replying

“And if I wasn’t extremely drunk and confused about my life, I’d probably vomit and kick you out of your own apartment!”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Arthur awoke to a picture on his phone sent by Gwaine into the group chat he shared with his closest friends.

Of course, it was the picture Morgana had taken the previous night, which Gwaine had so politely captioned:

‘Blind date number 3: He’s a sexy blonde preppy bastard with tattoos, big blue eyes and enough charm to seduce a University Professor into giving him a job! It’s Artie Pendragon!’

Arthur laughed and clicked on the picture before deciding to save it to his phone. He was actually very surprised that the University had employed him, what with his neck and forearms laced with tattoos. Surely that said something for his talent?

He smirked at the chat, choosing just to reply with a thanks to his impossible best friend- and he couldn’t help but wonder how his life went from horrible to fantastic in the space of a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can get the idea for Arthur's Graduation outfit here:  
> http://guessimaclotpole.tumblr.com/post/177778092439
> 
> We all know he'd look bloody gorgeous in a Burgundy tux!


	2. Plans and Preparations (A)

As Arthur pulled up to the open gates, he paused for a moment to take in his surroundings. The short winding road ahead of him was surrounded by sculpted greenery and small lights fitted into the floor. The house was modest compared to what his Father’s had been, but it was still a sight to behold. The grey stone-work gave the place an old feel, and the trees surrounding would ensure Arthur’s privacy; something he was never fortunate enough to have back in London.

He pulled his foot away from the clutch and made his way up the slight incline towards his garage. After parking his car, he strolled to the large brown door and slowly rested his forehead against it.

He’d never be able to afford this if not for his inheritance, and so he’d take a few moments to just be thankful. He placed his right hand on the door by his face and looked down at himself. Gwaine had been right, he was indeed turning preppy. His just-above-the-ankle dark blue skinny jeans hugged his toned legs, and his light denim shirt stretched tight over his chest and shoulders. He pulled his hand from the door and brushed it over where his Arthurian half-sleeve covered his left forearm in shades of black and grey. His sleeves were rolled up enough just to see the handle of Excalibur and the stone in which the blade was set. He loved his tattoos. They made him Arthur, and if that meant a right arm fully dedicated to Harry Potter then he wasn’t ashamed of being an absolute dork.

He pulled his head back from the door and peered at his distorted reflection in the stained window. His thick-framed glasses stood perched on his nose and in each ear, a black 7mm hollow expander looked back at him. He stretched his neck tightly to one side and noticed that his newest addition was healing nicely. A collection of black and grey roses.

Yeah, definitely a preppy hipster.

He nodded to himself with a smirk before unlocking the door and letting himself in. As he kicked off his new tan brogues in the hall, he began to consider how he would decorate this place; but then the thought briskly left his mind as he remembered that he didn’t intend to stay here permanently- just until he had finished his Masters degree.

Arthur let his eyes linger on the boxes as he made his way into the living room. He didn’t have much to unpack; his clothes had already been unloaded into the dressing room and his books had all been organised. There was only the decorative items left to sort.

The living room was very modern and spacious, with glossy dark wooden furnishings and deep blue tones on the walls. It was the only room Arthur had decorated, because his beautiful Steinway and Sons grand piano needed a welcoming environment; and its home was in the centre of the large rounded window at the back of the house.

He perched himself atop the piano stool and lifted the smooth lid to reveal the keys. As old as she was, she looked newer every time Arthur looked at her. As the light from the setting sun filtered in through the gaps in the blinds, Arthur lightly brushed his fingers across the keys from low to high playing an assortment of arpeggios to warm up his hands. A standard major scale followed by a harmonic minor and a melodic minor. Then into a variety of modes in different keys; Phrygian, Lochrian, Ionian, Dorian...

He then began to play from memory. A song he’d taught himself in his first year of college.

 _‘’May Be’ –_ Yiruma

It was a song that reminded him of better days. Of his Father’s keen attitude towards Arthur’s future. Of the consecutive days he spent with his friends. Of the days before relationships, and jobs and being an adult. He allowed the magic of the music to flow from his fingertips and out through the pores of his body; the sounds filling him up and oozing out of him.

Each change in tempo was like a reminder of how his life once was, and every repetition of the motif he played differently, as to reflect on how his life had taken so many drastic changes since those days. Every dynamic change he felt in his heart and his stomach and every acciaccatura falling off his fingers was as though this is what they were meant for.

He was made for this song.

For this Piano.

The tears fell against the keys as he played, only adding more sensation to the melody and the feel of the instrument beneath him. He was grateful. Grateful for all that he had been given and all that he could do. And for the ability to feel such emotion through a piece of music, written so perfectly by an astounding man.

As the last few bars came to a close, he was roused from his escape within the music by Morgana’s sob in the doorway. As Arthur delicately pulled the lid closed and stood up, Morgana rushed into his arms. He held her there for a moment, savouring the fact that he still had his sister and that she was his entire universe and more. After sniffling into his shoulder, Morgana looked up through her tears into Arthur’s eyes.

“Arthur Pendragon, I am yet to meet another person who can put such emotion and feeling into a song that isn’t their own. If there is anyone in the world that deserves this job it is you” and even when she is crying, she still manages to sound stubborn and possessive, and Arthur wouldn’t have her any other way.

 

* * *

 

Arthur doesn’t bother to change out of his clothes; leaving him feeling very under-dressed compared to Morgana in her black swing dress and summer hat. She really does look flawless in absolutely everything. Arthur offers to drive, but Morgana makes him promise not to take the car, and that she swears she won’t let him have more than 2 pints.

Of course, she lied.

It started out innocently enough. They had spent a lot of time catching up on their recent ventures and talking about the lessons Arthur would be teaching: Music Theory, and Teaching and Facilitating. The part-time hours would work perfectly around his study time and he had planned ahead for the whole first term.

“So, what about you then? Are you still at London?” Arthur asked. Morgana had quite the reputation at London College of Music, and since she started teaching there 3 years ago she had been promoted twice.

She reached over the table and squeezed his hand before squeaking and jumping in her seat.

“What have you done now?” asked Arthur in his best satirical patronising tone. Morgana only ever got like this if she kept a secret. She stopped wriggling around, with what looked like great effort, and let out a long exhale before revealing the news.

“Okay, so you know I’ve been saving as much money as I can. And I finally have enough to go exploring in Africa!... and well... I’ll be leaving in December and I’ll be gone a few months- but I’ll be in safe hands with Cenred- and I’ll be able to-”

“Wooooaaaahh!” came Arthur’s response before he could let her finish. Cenred was that arsehole that had cheated on her a few months ago and Arthur had never liked him at all. He was a creep- a genuine, fully-licenced creep. “Cenred? Really Morgana? After what he did with Vivian?”

She looked down at her hands and sighed. Arthur knew that she’d been head over heels for him, but their relationship was never right. Arthur saw the way he handled her in public, and how he belittled her and spoke down to her. She was worth a hundred of him.

“Look, he said he was sorry. It was a very genuine and heartfelt apology and you know me, Arthur. If I didn’t believe him I wouldn’t be doing this.”

Arthur couldn’t do anything but squeeze her hand and sigh in return. He couldn’t tell his sister what to do, and he certainly didn’t want to seem controlling.

“You just be careful okay?” he replied, and she gave him a soft smile and gentle nod.

That was when the trouble started. A live duo act began to perform, and of course Morgana knew _all_ of the songs; which meant only one thing.

More drinks.

 

* * *

 

3 pints, 2 double rums and a shared pitcher of Sex on the Beach. That was what Arthur was currently harbouring in his system- and it was only 11pm. They had been here less than an hour and a half, and they were _obviously_ the drunkest. Normally Arthur could handle his drink, but after a long day of planning- he’d somehow forgotten to eat. Then of course, mixing his drinks didn’t exactly help. He really was his own worst enemy.

He tapped through his Huawei P20 Pro and set 6 alarms for the morning.

He _must_ get out of bed- he can’t be late on his first day. Nor can he be hungover, so he must stop drinking… Yes, finish this pitcher and then stop drinking…

“Ooooohh Artieeee!” came Morgana’s tell-tale sing-song voice from behind him and he _knew._ That was her shots voice. She placed the wooden slabs carrying 5 shots for each of them on the table. He knew he shouldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t; so he stood to protest but as his feet lifted him from the floor he realised that his left side was at least 5 stone heavier than his right and someone had definitely filled his head with helium when he wasn’t looking.

Yes, definitely helium.

“Not a g- *ahem* good idea... Mrrrrgana, got work…”

“Psssshhhhhhhhhh” she replied, silencing him with her finger on his lips. Arthur knew he was fighting a losing battle. Best just choke them back and go home.  So, to the sound of the live acoustic duo in the background and the tingling behind his eyes, he lifted the first red shot from the slab.

In her best John Anderson from Gladiators impression, Morgana lifted her shot in the air and shouted “Morrrgannaa, reaadyy!”, she then looked to Arthur who couldn’t say no to those puppy eyes. In the worst drunken Scottish accent anyone had ever spoken, he did the same and shouted “Arrrthurrrr, reaadyy!”

Then the two of them nodded, and the first shot was gone. Then in a scramble of hands hitting one another, heads swinging back and a smashed glass, Arthur swallowed down the final black shot before finding himself showered in the spray of Black Sambuca from Morgana’s mouth. She always did end up laughing too much.

 

* * *

 

 The following morning, Arthur was rudely awakened by the brassy opening tones of _‘I Got a Girl’_ by Lou Bega that resonated through his eardrums and eye balls so much that he was convinced that his phone had broken the sound barrier. After scrambling at the screen to turn it off, he sat up and his vision immediately blurred, causing an immediate spell of dizziness. He assumed this had nothing to do with not wearing his glasses.

As he turned to the counter, he saw the ibuprofen and water that he’d had the sense to leave out for himself last night. He choked down the pills, fighting every urge he could muster to not vomit right there in his bed. How the hell was he supposed to teach like this?

He checked his watch and decided he had time for a decent shower. He stumbled into his en-suite and shed his tee and lounge pants. He took a moment to look in the bathroom mirror, and _hell,_ those bags under his eyes could give Mary Poppins’ bag a run for its money. He shook his head at himself, cursing under his breath for being such a pushover and for agreeing to those shots.

He jumped a little as he stepped into the searing hot stream of water, but after a few seconds it was absolute bliss. As he let the water jet down his back, he closed his eyes and slowly inhaled through the steam. He’d argue to the death that a hot shower could fix 98% of the world’s problems, and that the other 2% could be fixed with… _something else._

With a steady hand, Arthur took his Shampoo bottle and squeezed the contents into his hand. Stretching his arms up over his head, he began to slowly massage the liquid into his scalp; applying enough pressure to ease the headache for now. He slowly brought his hands down behind his ears and closing his eyes, he let his thumbs gently trail across the skin of his neck, igniting something in the pit of his stomach.

As he rinsed out the shampoo, he took his bottle of over-expensive shower gel and squeezed it straight over his chest; the cold causing a sharp intake of breath and his back to arch. He began to smooth the perfumed gel over his shoulders, tickling his own skin with his fingers before letting his hands travel down his chest, gently brushing over his nipples- causing them to stand on end. He brushed over them a second time and found himself thrusting forward into the stream of water surrounding him. He took a moment to pace himself and began to work again, massaging the lather of foam into the skin of his stomach, and taking care to grab at his own hips extra hard as he washed himself.

He transferred some of the foam from his torso to his hands, before propping a leg against the wall and working in the lather with a circular motion up his calves and his thighs, stopping just below the place that screamed for his attention the most. He repeated the action on his other leg, and as he reached his groin, he created a perfect (O) with his fist and forced himself into it.

The sharp breath came out as a hiss and he did the same again, this time fisting against himself as he thrusted forwards. With a steady pace that could match a 140 bpm on a metronome, he fucked his hand until his legs began to cramp. The water was streaming down his face and the steam had him sweating from every pore on his body- and he thrusted and hissed and pulled and growled until he got that familiar rush, that feeling that took over his whole body- and with a final hurried push and a wanton moan, he came and came, his dick purple and violently pulsing in his hand.

That was the best wank he’d had in ages.

He took time to dry himself off, and took extra care getting dressed. He wanted to look half-decent, and preferably not as though he’d spent the night intoxicated and that he’d had a pre-work wanking session. He chose to wear a white button-down shirt with a tan jumper and matching beanie. His pulled on his black skinny jeans, rolled up the legs slightly, and checked himself over in the mirror. This job had its perks and its downfalls when it came to what to wear. He could wear anything he liked provided it wasn’t offensive, provocative or messy-looking- however; he had to keep his tattoos covered.

He needed a scarf.

Thankfully, being the in-denial hipster that he was, he had plenty. He pulled a brown woollen scarf from the wardrobe and placed it loosely around his neck before ensuring that he had everything he needed. This first lesson was going to be all about introductions and getting to know his students.  He slid on his glasses and watch and stepped into the brogues he’d been wearing the previous night (after cleaning off the sambuca, of course) and took one last look at his house.

This was his life now, organised early mornings in his own home before going to a well-earned job.

Arthur Pendragon was going to adult for the first day in his life.

 

* * *

 

Arthur was ten minutes into his lesson, and honestly- it was going as good as he could have planned. He’d set up everything he needed prior to the start of the class, and all of his students had arrived on time and with an eager attitude. Music Theory was definitely a daunting subject for a Monday Morning, so the class were happy to be told they’d be spending their first session getting to know one another. They had just introduced themselves by name and began to discuss their favourite musicians, before there was a knock on the door and Professor Gaius stuck his head in.

“Arthur, if you wouldn’t mind a quick word?”

Arthur apologised to his class before excusing himself with an honest smile. Little did he know that his life was about to turn upside down.

He stepped out of the door and Dr Gaius pulled him to one side.

“I’m sorry Arthur. I know you were promised a class of all international students but there has been a mix up. We were supposed to be separating the Foundation degree into two classes, the British Nationals and the international students, but only one local student has actually met the entry requirements.”

Arthur understood straight away, he’d have to take on an extra student; but that was easily worked around. So why did Gaius look so apprehensive? Perhaps he was underestimating Arthur’s ability?

“Okay, so you want me to take another student?” asked Arthur with a smile, to try to reassure Gaius. One student wouldn’t cause him to stray from his plans in the slightest.

“Mmmm, yes. He will be joining you this morning” answered Gaius, looking around with an eyebrow raised. Now Arthur understood; the student was late- an easy mistake to make on your first day. Nothing to worry about.

But then there was everything to worry about.

“Ah! Mer- I mean... Emrys!” Gaius called as the double doors at the bottom of the corridor sprung open and suddenly Arthur felt a burning in his throat and his stomach clenched. He wanted to blame it on the rum and that _god damn_ sambuca, but he knew that this was nothing to do with the alcohol. This… Emrys… was wearing a plaid red and black shirt which was quite clearly a perfect fit, because _Jesus_ that stretch over his chest was something else entirely, and his black skinny jeans clinged to him perfectly, and that leather jacket just had this endearing effect with that mess of black hair and-

_Fuck_

What was he doing? Arthur Pendragon was the straightest hipster of the squad, or that’s what the lads always said… and yet here he was practically drooling over another male, and worse… _fucking hell_ this was his student. He felt the blood rush from every part of his body towards the last place he wanted it to go to and he found himself trying not to stare but _holy hell_ those were the bluest eyes he had ever seen, and they were looking right at him and just as Emrys neared he noticed-

_Yeah, he was totally fucked._

The young man had two lip piercings, Medusa and Vertical Labret and they were both filled with black studs, and he had expanders too, only smaller than Arthur’s, maybe 4 or 5mm? And he just carried himself with such _fucking sexiness_ and he was wearing fucking boots with buckles. _With. Buckles._

Panic set in. Arthur turned to Gaius wide eyed but couldn’t find it in him to utter a word. He found himself thinking of every horrible thing that had ever happened to him; like that time he fell over in school and his hand landed in dog shit, and when Percival tossed his shirt at him after the gym and the _smell_ , and when Morgana kissed Cenred that time at his house party...

Yep

That did it.

Arthur had just say managed to salvage his thoughts and save himself from an absolute tragedy in tight jeans, before Gaius spoke.

“Arthur, this is Emrys. He’ll be your student until the end of the course”.

_Be Professional, Arthur_

Arthur held out his hand but Emrys just stared at Arthur as though he had just ran over his dog. Arthur steadily withdrew his hand and tried a different approach.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Emrys. Erm, you’ve missed the first part of our ice-breakers but we’re just about to discuss what instruments we all play, so you’re welcome to join in and introduce yourself properly then.”

Emrys looked from Arthur to Gaius, and Gaius gave him a brisk nod, his eyebrow raising higher than was humanly possible.

Emrys heaved a sigh and pushed past Arthur into the classroom.

Arthur wasn’t quite sure what just happened, but he had a feeling that his morning had just become extremely complicated. He looked to Gaius while he tried to find the questions he wanted to ask before the older man beat him to the words.

“He’ll warm up to you eventually. He is a good musician and I’m sure he won’t give you too much trouble. I’ll have his learner profile emailed over this week once we get our affairs in order.”

And with that, Gaius gave him a re-assuring tap on the shoulder and disappeared through the double doors, leaving Arthur stood in the corridor, hands stiff by his sides and his mouth ajar like a blithering idiot. This wasn’t going to be an easy year.

 

* * *

 

For the entirety of the lesson, Emrys never spoke a word; even when spoken to… and if that wasn’t bad enough, he’d spent the whole 2 hours staring at Arthur, never once letting his eyes wander elsewhere. Arthur had begun to think that this was karma. This was his just dessert for accidentally flirting with the head of department over the phone while drunk, and for getting drunk again last night. Either that or it was some sort of fucked up dream, because to be honest the whole scenario was quite surreal, and the staring was doing _nothing_ to ease his tension at all. In fact, if it weren’t for his shower this morning, he was quite convinced he could have spent in his jeans from the pressure of it all.

Regardless of his awkward feelings towards this boy, Arthur knew he was a professional and that he valued this job more than anything. He was very lucky to be in this position and he couldn’t let the behaviour of one student create a barrier to learning. This was simply a case of lower-level disruptive behaviour and there were plenty of prevention methods.

Arthur stood at the door to let the class out and, just as he’d hoped, Emrys was about to be the last to leave. Arthur pulled the door to the classroom shut, and Emrys turned to catch his gaze again. He quickly glanced away because he was not going to get lost in those utterly gorgeous blue eyes again, no Sir.

“Take a seat” he said and Emrys stood staring at him for a good few seconds before he (purposefully) slowly dragged his feet back to the seat he’d been previously occupying. Arthur knew confidence was key in situations such as this, and so he pulled up a seat directly in front of Emrys, and turned it around; straddling it.

Arthur dared to meet the young man’s gaze again before speaking in hushed, but assertive tones.

“I may have just completed my teaching qualification, _Emrys_ , but I am perfectly well-trained enough to know that you are disrupting my lesson. Now, the question I want you to answer, is what do you want me to do about it? Because you can behave yourself in classes, and this can be forgotten- or you can continue this way- and be removed from the course. I won’t tolerate disruptive behaviour, especially not in such a keen class.”

Arthur kept Emrys’ gaze, and the young man’s eyes narrowed, as though trying to suss him out. He then raised his eyebrows- and god help him, he looked Arthur up and down like he was a piece of meat and suddenly Arthur felt _very_ vulnerable straddling this chair. Then Emrys spoke.

“A’ll tell ya what, A’ll behave meself if ya stop eye-fuckin’ is in front of the whole class.”

And then he stood from his chair, fucking _winked_ at Arthur, and left the room; boot buckles jingling in his wake. And again, Arthur was left unmoving, staring into the empty room because he was physically incapable of doing anything else- because he didn’t know what he was expecting… but _that_ Northern accent was enough to push him over the edge.

So that night when he returned home, he sprinted into his bedroom before Morgana had the chance to catch him and he rubbed one out the second he closed the door behind him.

Arthur Pendragon, the straightest hipster of the squad.

_Yeah, right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an idea of Arthur's tattoos and outfits, see here: http://guessimaclotpole.tumblr.com/post/177843079094/arthurs-neck-tattoo-arthurs-harry-potter-sleeve
> 
> For Emrys' Piercings, see here: http://guessimaclotpole.tumblr.com/post/177843249399/emrys-piercings-vertical-labret-medusa
> 
> And for Emrys' accent, see here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwVYoA2NyAU&t=50s
> 
> For May Be - Yiruma: https://youtu.be/6Wg_JpVHkio
> 
>  
> 
> Please leave feedback where possible!
> 
> I will try and update this at least once a week!


	3. Abandon All Reason (E)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Hurt!Merlin and drunk scenes.

As the flame burned in front of him, he couldn’t help but stare. Such a beautiful thing, fire. So reliant on others to survive, yet once fed and fuelled it grew into a form of power, enough to destroy anything in its path. Enough to destroy any hints of a past life.

He’d often thought about doing it, letting the flames rip through his belongings, his home, his life- but that day wouldn’t be today. Instead, he took a drag and watched as the end of his cigarette glowed red from within the yellow flame; the embers slowly burning down towards his fingers, like neon, from amber to crimson to grey.

A beautiful thing. A beautiful feeling- to breathe it in. To feel something so foreign and welcome it into your body, lungs and mind. With each inhalation you give yourself over to a different version of yourself. A calmer you, a more thoughtful you. A more observant you.

Just as he took his final drag, Emrys’ phone vibrated on the cold wooden floor next to him. He had turned the garden out-house into somewhat of a hideout. It was small but secure, and it provided him with the sanctuary he needed while his Mother was home. She’d been back from work for a month now; and she was the only reason he had joined this _ludicrous_ university course. She pushed for the sponsorship and prior to that, she pushed Emrys into classical piano. He didn’t want to study classical music. He didn’t want to study music at all. He didn’t even know what he wanted.

He forced the butt of his cigarette out onto the floor beside him and loaded up his emails.

 

**_Unread (1)_ **

_< from: arthur.pendragon@durham.ac.uk>  
Subject: Your First Lesson. Sent: 17:57_

 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening the email. He appreciated the rain lashing down on the out-house around him, creating a natural sound barrier between him and the rest of the shitty world. This probably wasn’t going to be good.

 

_< from: arthur.pendragon@durham.ac.uk>  
Subject: Your First Lesson._

_Hi Emrys,_

_This is just an email regarding your behaviour in the classroom today. I understand that first days can be intimidating, especially in a class of people that you don’t know. However, refusing to cooperate and listen in classes can prevent other students from learning._

_As for our chat after the lesson, it is worth nothing that although I am an NQT- I am still your teacher, and there are some things that you should be careful of saying around staff. Should an incident like that occur again, proper measures will be taken, and you may lose your position on the course._

_I am hoping that we just got off on the wrong foot, and I look forward to a new start in your lesson tomorrow._

_Kind Regards,  
Arthur._

 

 _Hell_. He hated this course, and he hated Arthur god damn Pendragon. What prestigious University hires a sodding hipster in his mid-20s? Emrys was certain that in places like Durham, lecturers had to have at least three PhDs, and Arthur didn’t look old enough to have one. He didn’t look old enough to be any sort of teacher. Certainly not old enough to be telling him what to do anyway.

Emrys read back over the email again and laughed to himself. He probably shouldn’t have said what he did; but it seemed Arthur hadn’t told Professor Gaius. If he had, then Gaius would have told his mother and that was something he could definitely do without.

He knew his Mother loved him and wanted the best for him; she just had a peculiar way of showing it. She spent whole terms at a time abroad doing hotel management work at certain places around Europe, and sometimes on Cruise Ships. It made her enough money for the two of them to live comfortably- but it had meant moving out of his home in Sunderland and into Durham, where her home office was based.

Emrys had grown up in Sunderland, and quite frankly it was a shithole. He loved it though- he had Gwen and he had Will and he had the comfort of knowing that Sunderland was where he had always been, and where he was meant to be. So, when his Mother nailed the job interview just under a year ago, she quite rudely and spontaneously packed up everything and dragged him out here.

They’d moved in a week before Christmas and therefore had to sacrifice every single tradition they had. No having friends over on Christmas Eve for drinks, no trip through Mowbray Park with his little cousin, Mordred; and no inviting Gwen over to help decorate the tree. Hell, they didn’t even put up any decorations. His Mam had just bought one of those tree car air fresheners and stuck it on the door ‘for a laugh’.

Although Emrys didn’t frequently show it, he used to thoroughly enjoy Christmas. It was the one time that he and his friends could forget themselves, and that he could forget about his past.

Emrys gave his head a shake and hit at his temple hard a few times with his fist. He wouldn’t torture himself any more today.

He’d ring Will.

Yeah, Will would talk him through things.

 

He took his phone, selecting Will from the top of his recent calls list. He suddenly became very aware of his surroundings. The sky outside had darkened reasonably with the heavier rain, and it was rather cold. He held the phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could pull up the zip of his leather jacket- and then the dial tone was interrupted.

_“Hey Merls”_

The hairs on the back of his neck immediately stood on end. Will didn’t use _that_ voice very often, and Emrys knew exactly what he was doing. He felt all of his blood rush south and was torn between sudden want and regret.

“Hey, erm if this is a bad time, I can-”

_“No, Emrys. It’s fine. I know you wouldn’t call if it wasn’t something that was bothering you”_

Emrys wasn’t entirely sure where to put himself. He knew exactly what he had interrupted- but Will was right. He never rang him unless it was something important.

“I’ve just had a shit first day that’s all. They’ve cancelled my course, so they’ve put me on the same course but with a bunch of fucking over-enthusiastic randomers, and the lecturer is like a 20 odd year-old hipster lad who kept fucking looking at me like I was a meal and I just feel so out of place, Will. I just want to come home, and then I started thinking about Dad and-”

_“Your lecturer obviously has good taste, Merls- Mmmphf- You are a bit of a meal”_

Emrys could feel tears stinging his tear ducts and he fought back the lump in his throat. He should never have started this conversation while Will was like this. He should never have stayed on the phone when he realised what he was interrupting, but Will was the only friend who knew about his Dad and Will was the one who helped him through it when his Mam couldn’t be there.

His Will. The only person in the world who Emrys had ever truly felt he’d belonged to.

His Will, but not his Will at all. He never would be.

After accidentally letting out a sob, Emrys slapped his free hand over his mouth to silence himself. For a moment, he thought Will hadn’t noticed- and he could only hear the repeated slapping of skin on skin from the other end of the phone. He scrunched his face up in an attempt to block the image from his mind, but to no avail… and what was worse, Will had heard after all.

_“Mmmmm yeah, Merls. Tell me all about it, come on. I wanna hear your emotion. I wanna hear you sob my name”_

And this was what Emrys had wanted so desperately to avoid.

“I can’t Will” he said, the tears now burning down his cheeks and his voice hoarse from trying to stifle a cry. He continued “I can’t.. I- I’m going to-”

_“Don’t you dare fucking hang up this phone Emrys. You will fucking cry for me or so help me I will fucking make you”_

And just like that, Will had changed- Emrys at his will.

And so he did just that. He stayed on the phone, pathetically and wordlessly crying into his hand- unable to stop the stream of nightmares flaring through his mind. His Dad, his old home, his old friends, his old Will… and this shit new life.

When Will finished he hung up without any further attempt at conversation, and Emrys kept the phone at his ear, for fear he might try and use the free hand to break something

His Will, who kissed his poorly knee better when they were 6 years old. His Will, who used to always put an extra sugar in Emrys’ tea because he knew he liked it like that. His Will, who was the only one of his friends who was allowed to call him by his birth name. His Will, who held him for hours when his Dad had left, and who protected him from everything in the world that could do him harm.

His Will, who was no longer the same boy. His Will had grown up. His Will had become something else, but he was still Will.

And Emrys was in love with him.

 

* * *

 

He’d dragged himself back into the house and scowled at his Mother when she’d asked how his first day went. He’d managed to calm himself down with another few cigarettes in the outhouse, and now he just needed to get out. He didn’t want to be in this still-foreign bedroom and he didn’t want to be anywhere near his Mother right now, who was the reason he was out here in the first place.

He knew he needed some last-minute plans, and there was only one person for the job.

**Gwen: 19:34  
E:** [I know it’s late, but I really need rescuing. You game?]

 

He never had to wait long for a reply from Gwen- she was an angel like that. She just always seemed to have time for him.

 

 **Gwen: 19:34  
E:** [I know it’s late, but I really need rescuing. You game?]  
**G:** [Well that depends. Sunderland or Newcastle?]

 

Emrys confirmed their meeting place in Newcastle and left with nothing but his bank card and his drinking hat.

 

* * *

 

It was quarter to nine when he got to Revolution and as soon as he got there, he ordered himself a double pink gin and lemonade. Monday night was student night, so it was cheap doubles and triples in near to every club. He made his way through his drink relatively fast, relishing in the tingle in his chest and arms as it passed through his system.

“Oi! Open your eyes, you Pillock- I didn’t drag myself here for you to fall asleep on me!”

Emrys opened his eyes and looked at the picture of absolute perfection in front of him. Gwen had opted for a (very) low-neck black vest top, and a pair of high wasted navy shorts. Paired with fishnets, heeled ankle-boots and her untamed wild hair- she was quite literally irresistible. 

He put his hands on her sides and leaned in close. This was something that had always been right with Gwen. He could unashamedly be himself around her, and she was totally okay with it.

“You know… If I wasn’t gay as fuck, I’d be taking you home and ramming you into next week” he whispered before placing a gentle kiss on her earlobe. In return, she swatted him with her silver clutch bag and over-exaggeratedly gasped.

“Merlin Emrys Smith! Did you have pre-drinks on your way here without telling me?!”

_Busted._

He looked down at the floor, feigning total innocence.

“Maybe one…”

He didn’t need to look at her to know that she was glaring at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Okay, maybe a few. I’ve had a shit day okay… and don’t fucking call me Merlin!” he said and slapped her shoulder.

They both burst into a fit of giggles and hugged each other before deciding to order a couple of pitchers. The quicker they drank, the better.

 

* * *

 

Emrys was sat on a stool at the bar, Gwen leaning against his side. The music was thumping in time with the blood pumping through his veins and he could feel the bass notes throb through his entire head. Everyone around him was swaying this way and that… or was that him? Not like it mattered because he was pissed as a fart and it felt fucking unbelievable. Gwen was just finishing the last of her Strawberry Daiquiri when Emrys decided he needed to move. Really move.

“Eazy Street?!” he shouted over the mass of noise and Gwen nodded in response, the smile she was wearing was ever so slightly manic, fuelled by endless cocktails.

They left the club hand in hand, fingers entwined, and laughed together- tripping over their own feet and falling against each other. Emrys briefly acknowledged the odd few people on the street sending remarks in their direction. Lots of ‘awww’s and ‘how sweet’ and his all-time favourite ‘oh, aren’t they a lovely young couple!’.

They _always_ played up to this when they came out. It started as pretending to be a couple to ward off potential creepy stalkers in nightclubs… but they really enjoyed the laugh of pretending. So, they often held hands, crossed into each other’s personal space and flirted hopelessly.

They didn’t realise that this night would be so different- probably because of the disgusting amount they had actually had to drink. Emrys wasn’t sure that he’d ever drank so much in his life, and he was surprised to find that he could successfully place one foot in front of the other without his face meeting the ground.

When he and Gwen found themselves at Eazy Street, Emrys led them in. The bar staff immediately whipped him up something strong which he downed in one. He was a regular here, and because of his commitment to the place, Zoe always knocked him up a free drink. As far as gay bars go, it was quite shabby and not quite as ‘done-up’ as the others; but it was his usual, and he loved the place.

Lady Bella was singing on a stage up the bar, and she was doing one hell of a good job of it. She was a regular performer, and she was probably one of the best drag-acts in Newcastle. He hadn’t heard her perform this song (When You’re Good to Mama – Chicago) in some time, and he wolf-whistled in appreciation, the sound cutting over everything in the room.

She looked in his direction, her huge eyelashes clueing him that she’d seen him straight away. She pointed in his direction and slowly lifted the side of her dress whilst seductively swaying her hips and singing.

_‘Spice it up for Mama, She'll get hot for you’_

Emrys began to fan himself in mock adoration and then heard Gwen’s laugh at his side.

“God, you’re such a tease! She’d fucking have you for breakfast!”

Emrys couldn’t help but laugh too, and he and Gwen enjoyed the last 2 songs of Lady Bella’s set along with several strong beverages.

When he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, he turned to see Lady Bella standing beside him- her black midi dress hugging her body, and her huge blonde wig like a curly halo around her head.

“Emrys, darling, you know that I’m going to have to drag you up there with me now that I know you’re incapacitated, right? Tell me what you want to sing- I’ll get it sorted!”

She eyed him with a curious stare and a mischievous smirk- and any other day, Emrys would never do something so bold. Lady Bella had heard him sing once, when she wasn’t working, and they were alone. He’d never done it on stage before. However, he’d also never been this hammered before; and so he decided that singing was a _fantastic_ idea.

“Mmmmm, only if my Gwen can sing with me??”

Lady Bella turned her head to Gwen and smiled even wider upon seeing her eagerness pouring out of her eyes.

“Oh of course she can!”

“Oh, fantastic!” squeaked Gwen in a pitch that was so high, probably only bats heard it.

“Our usual?” she asked Emrys, and he nodded with a flirtatious smile. Gwen whispered in Lady Bella’s ear, and the drag queen raised her eyes, but nodded in approval.

 

Some time later, she returned with two wireless microphones in her hands and hell, Emrys swore the microphone she held out at him was a foot longer for a second and he dodged out of the way. Then he realised that the microphone wasn’t longer… he was drunker. However, he wasn’t a man to go against his word; regardless of his condition. He took the microphone, and next to him Gwen took hers and winked in his direction. They stumbled to the foot of the stage where Lady Bella introduced them to a round of drunken and slightly confused applause- and then they stood side by side on the dance-floor, the audience creating a circle around them.

As the count in started, Emrys inhaled a sharp breath and sang out his first verse. It came out easier than he’d have thought- but that was probably the alcohol. He’d probably shit himself otherwise.

_Now I've had the time of my life No, I never felt like this before Yes, I swear it's the truth And I owe it all to you_

And then Gwen sang her part, and although she really couldn’t sing- the way she moved made up for it. Effortless, appealing and seductive. The audience were going to fucking love this.

As they made their way through the first verse, everything was relatively innocent. Emrys stood and sang his parts, and Gwen sang hers and found a rhythm to sway her hips to. Emrys was lost in the moment- completely. The music around him, the audience revelling in their performance, the room bouncing with energy and alcohol pulsing through his veins… he was immersed in it all.

That’s probably why he didn’t fully notice exactly what he was doing until the third chorus when Gwen was grinding her arse against his crotch and he had his left arm wrapped around her front, pressing her back to him. He was singing into her ear as well as the microphone, and _shit_. He was sexy dancing. What a fucking cliché- but he was loving it. He pressed his own groin forwards to match Gwen’s grinding, and they found a rhythm with the music and sang and danced and every now and then, Gwen would turn around and face him, eyes glazed with drunken desire, and it was sensual as fuck and he felt it in his bones.

Then in the build up to the final chorus, they were grinding and feeling and touching and dancing and it was _filthy_ , but nothing prepared him for Gwen ripping his microphone from his hand and throwing it to the floor before taking his face in her hands and kissing him. He was even less prepared for the way he willingly opened up to her and immediately licked into her mouth, exploring every angle and movement. They were pressed so tight against each other and he took her bottom lip in his teeth before going back in to kiss her.

Far away, the music died down and Emrys became very aware of the applauding crowd cheering at them and realisation hit him like a horrible, sobering punch to the gut and he pulled away, eyes wide in absolute horror.

This girl was his best friend- his straight best friend. And he was definitely gay… he even looked down at his crotch to double check. Yes, definitely gay.

So _why the fuck_ did he just neck on with his best mate in a gay bar and practically dry hump her in front of everyone while they were- Oh _fuck._ Why the hell did he decide to sing on stage in front of all these people? _Had he lost his mind?!_

He stood completely immobilised staring right at Gwen’s face, and suddenly he recollected his day. His fucking horrible morning with that Pendragon prat, his thoughts about his Dad, his call with Will… and now this. He could feel it coming. The alcohol suddenly lay very heavy in his legs and he couldn’t move even if he’d tried. Gwen looked alarmed and started towards him, but he raised a hand quickly to deter her- and just in time, because the next minute he was blowing chunks all over the floor.

The night couldn’t have gone any worse- or that’s what he thought, because he didn’t see Lady Bella recording the _entire_ thing on her phone.


	4. Is Revenge Allowed? (A)

Arthur awoke to the gentle tones of _Scarborough Fair_ on Tuesday morning. It would have been nice, if he hadn’t felt so disturbingly dirty. What the _hell_ had he been thinking? That little shit had come into his lesson, ignored him, made a fool of him and then made a very inappropriate remark towards him- and Arthur, being the idiot he was; didn’t even report it!

 _As long as it doesn’t happen again_ , Arthur thought to himself. He just needed a way of forgetting that yesterday ever happened, either that or a way of getting Emrys to stop being a dick in his lessons- obviously playing mister nice teacher hadn’t worked at all.

He sulkily pulled himself out of bed and into the shower. He had a quick wash and gave himself a spray, before wrapping a towel around his waist and heading for the kitchen to iron his clothes. He was going to dress simple today – mostly because he felt fucking simple. It was as though a years’ worth of teacher training had just flown out of his brain to some far-off distant land; letting a student say something like that to him… Bloody _Hell_.

He straightened his white button-down shirt over the ironing board and began to carefully iron out the creases. It wasn’t until he looked up for a minute and caught Morgana’s reflection in the oven door that he realised how naked he felt. After jumping out of skin (almost dropping his towel in the process) and mumbling some obscenities, he turned to face his sister.

“You’re like the creeping sodding Jesus for fuck sake! Can you not announce your presence in some way? Why the hell are you even awake?!”

Morgana was _never_ up early, other than the days she worked. So, it was definitely unnatural to have her stood leaning over his breakfast bar in a fluffy purple dressing gown and looking as fresh-faced as she did.

“I was intending on sleeping later but Cenred called” Arthur mock-wretched at the sound of his name as Morgana continued. “He asked if I’d seen the hilarious video circulating Facebook, and he even said that it’s from up here, so I knew I had to check it out- and I think you need to see it as well. You were so tense last night…”

Arthur went back to ironing his shirt and huffed a little, not wanting to be reminded of anything that he may or may not have done last night. Once he’d finished the arms, he replaced the shirt with a pair of black skinny jeans.

“Go on then” he said, and Morgana rushed to his side and handed her phone to him.

He pressed the play button in the middle of the video screen and immediately, the all-too familiar and raucous sounds of a night club filled his ears. The video was pretty blurry in the first few seconds but came into focus on a girl standing on what looked like a dancefloor surrounded by very drunk looking people. He paused it and turned to see Morgana’s pouting face looking up at him,

“Why have you turned it off?” she said, and those puppy eyes could make even the hardest men crumble.

“I need you to promise me that there isn’t going to be anything filthy in this video, Morgana. It’s too early for that sort of nonsense”

“Arthur Pendragon! Are you insinuating that I only ever show you dirty videos?!”

Arthur smirked and shot her a mischievous grin before replying.

“You do realise that all of the porn I had as a teen was copied from your laptop, don’t you?”

Morgana briefly flushed red before giving her head a shake and reaching over and pressing the play button on her phone.

“Just watch the bloody video, Arthur… he’s good”

Arthur wasn’t quite sure what she meant but he watched it anyway. Whoever was recording definitely needed a lesson in how to hold a fucking phone straight, because when Arthur wasn’t watching the floor, he was watching people sloppily spilling drinks over each other. It wasn’t until the video was a good 40 seconds in that someone started singing- and before Arthur had a chance to place that voice the video focused in on-

 _No. fucking. way_.

But he wasn’t a singer- he was a pianist! It was in his student profile that Gaius had sent last night, and there was definitely not a word about singing in there!

Arthur watched with an unblinking stare as the video progressed and he could not bring his eyes away. He almost felt as though he was invading Emrys’ personal space. His girlfriend _was_ undeniably very pretty, but she couldn’t sing… Not like it mattered, because watching them move like that with each other was enough to get any audience going.

Arthur was quite literally watching the video with his mouth open- watching that little dickhead student sing with his stupidly good fucking voice and the way he _moved…_ It was though the rhythm was moving through their bodies and they were one with each other. He’d never seen drunk-dancing look so natural and so fluid.

This bloke was the same bloke that sat with his arms folded, glaring at Arthur in complete silence for almost a whole two hours yesterday, and here he was grinding and groping and singing and

 _“Oh”_ Arthur hadn’t realised he’d said it aloud, but he couldn’t help it. It took him completely off guard, and here he was watching his student kissing his girlfriend, and not just kissing… because they were _all over_ each other. Arthur had to laugh as the person recording actually zoomed in and once Arthur saw Emrys bite into the girl’s lip, he remembered where he was.

He immediately tossed the phone down onto the bench and began to frantically tap the screen to try and get it to stop. He mustn’t think of this video again. Absolutely not. Never.

Morgana walked over to him and gave him a scrutinising look before Arthur genuinely saw the lightbulb moment in her expression.

“He’s the student you were telling me about, isn’t he?”

Of course, Arthur hadn’t told Morgana that he’d had a moment of madness and found himself drawn to this student, but he did tell her how much of an idiot Emrys was and what he had said. Morgana was, after all, a very good teacher herself.

“I don’t think I should have watched this video.” Arthur replied, his mouth suddenly very dry. No. He definitely should not have because he was very, very aware of the fact that he was wearing nothing but a towel and his bottom half was not listening to his brain _at all_. He made sure to press himself into the ironing board for fear that Morgana would see right through him. Instead, she strolled back to the breakfast bar and poured herself a glass of orange juice.

“Didn’t you say he refused to answer any of your questions?”

“Yeah, why?” replied Arthur while he tried to think of a solution to the towel tenting over his groin. In a moment of insanity, he even thought about ironing his dick. That’d serve him right.

“Because…” sang Morgana in a playful tone- distracting him from the urge to scald himself into infertility. “he refused to tell you what his specialist instrument is… so this video is your ticket to discipline. You can tell the class that his voice is his main instrument, and it’ll teach him not to fuck with you again.” She didn’t look up at him, but he could see the look of pride on her face.

She’d always had a streak of evil- and Arthur was doing all of the calculations in his head. He could actually do this. He’d just have to snip off the end of the video and that was it. He’d praise Emrys’ voice whilst also teaching him a lesson.

Using praise as a punishment.

Yes, it would work.

Arthur hurried into his dressing room and pulled on his black skinnies and white shirt, opting for a mustard-coloured cashmere jumper and the same brown scarf and beanie hat he’d worn the day before.

He pulled open his Apple Mac, put on his glasses, opened the email from Morgana and set to work splicing this video.

 

* * *

 

It was 9:15 and Arthur could hear his class assembling in the corridor. He made sure that his laptop was properly connected to the big screen before switching it quickly into standby.

As he opened the door to welcome his students, his eyes travelled straight to the back of the group to where he could see that mess of black hair. _Good._ Arthur had made a mental note that Emrys hadn’t replied to his email last night and as he approached, Arthur could tell why. He used his arm to stop Emrys from entering the room before turning to look at him in full. He was wearing rolled-up, black ripped skinny jeans, some all-black old-skool vans and a black button-down shirt with rolled up sleeves and a floral print. Arthur could just see the fuzz of his chest hear under his- _NO._ He wasn’t doing this to himself today.

He mentally reprimanded himself before looking back up at Emrys’ face. If it hadn’t been for the fact that his student smelled like a gin bar, his sunglasses would have given him away.

“So Emrys, Gaius sent me your file. You sure you don’t want me to call you by your actual name, _Mer_ lin?”

Emrys only looked ahead into the classroom and gave a stern nod, his face unchanging as far as Arthur could see.

“Okay then- and before you enter the class you’ll be needing to take those sunglasses off.”

He noted how Emrys’ jaws clenched, but his student removed the glasses and forced past Arthur’s hand, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder- just giving Arthur a second to see those ‘one shot of red-eye’ hungover eyes.

Arthur smirked to himself before closing the door and taking place at the front of the class.

“So, I’m presuming most of you got the opportunity to know each other yesterday. Unfortunately, we do actually need to do some real work today- so to try and get an idea of where you are with your theory, I have some sheet music for you all to work on. I’d like you to annotate this with the 5 following things.”

Arthur walked up to the whiteboard, and bullet pointed the words as he spoke them.

“So, I’d like you to:

  * Circle any auxiliary and passing notes
  * Tell me the key of the song
  * What scale does the song use?
  * Label the chords
  * If you feel confident, try placing a new chord progression with the song, so that it still matched the melody



Now, you are all welcome to use the keyboards in the room to help you with the chords, and there is manuscript paper here at the front if you decide to transcribe the song with your new chord substitutions.”

He took care to change his tone of voice ever so slightly over the next few words, and made direct eye contact with Emrys, who had sat at the back of the class.

“I actually have a fantastic rendition of the song on my laptop as well, which I will play for you once I’ve handed out the sheet music.”

Arthur picked up his remote for the laptop and computer screen and handed out the sheet music. A few students muttered and nodded in recognition, it was a popular song after all. When Arthur got to Emrys, he placed the papers facing down on his desk.

“I’d like you to work independently as much as you can on this, and if you need any assistance feel free to ask. You may start”

Arthur waited for Emrys to turn over his papers, and as he did so, Arthur turned on the computer screen and pressed play on his remote.

The raucous sounds of the bar filled the room, followed by the video that had caused Arthur such torment that very morning. The students gasped in surprise and Arthur stood, arms crossed and confident, beside Emrys for the full length of the video, without looking at him once. When the video finished with Emrys and his girlfriend just say meeting at the lips, Arthur let a grinch-like smile spread over his face before walking to the front of the class and sitting at his desk to start collecting the resources for next Monday’s lesson.

_That’ll teach him._

* * *

 

By the time 11:00 came, Arthur had helped the odd student here and there, but most seemed to be getting on well. Emrys had sat himself at a keyboard at the back of the class, his back to Arthur, and Arthur just left him there; happy in the knowledge that he had won this little battle.

“Okay guys, you’ve worked very well this morning so if you’d like to finish off what you’re doing in the next ten minutes, and then I want you to get into groups of around four and talk about what you’ve learned. Remember, you aren’t being marked on this, I just want to track your progress.”

Arthur watched as students began to mingle around the classroom, but Emrys stayed at the back of the room.

Arthur dismissed his students at 11:20 and remained at his desk while the class filtered out. Emrys waited until the last student left, then stood up and walked slowly to Arthur’s desk. He pulled up a chair and straddled it, just as Arthur had done the previous day, and he placed a pile of manuscript on Arthur’s desk with is name scribbled on the top.

“Ya know…” started Emrys. Arthur had forgotten about that bloody accent. “Ya sent is an email last night sayin’ we got off on the wrong foot, an’ that ya wanted a fresh start…”

Arthur’s stomach immediately dropped. In his panicked state he had emailed Emrys, but he’d forgotten that he’d been nice. He had said to his student that they’d try again- not that Arthur would fucking humiliate him in front of the whole class.

Arthur kept a straight face before replying.

“All done in gest, Mr Smith. I thought that you were into humour?”

And then everything seemed to happen at once.

Emrys stood so violently from his chair that it tipped backwards and skidded a few feet across the floor. He sideways-punched a stack of files off Arthur’s desk and then slammed his hands down and leaned right down into Arthur’s face, before taking on a quiet, deep and really quite threatening tone.

“A don’t know what ya fucking problem is, Arthur, but am already pissed off about havin’ to be on this fucking shit course. It’s bad enough havin’ to drag meself to a class where a don’t know anyone without havin’ you bein’ a dick.”

In any other situation, Arthur would have immediately removed himself from the situation. His training, and the University policy would have him leave the room and request assistance. His brain told him to retreat and apologise for the humiliation before reporting to Gaius; and his inner youth told him to nut Emrys in the nose for calling him a dick.

What stopped him from doing any of the above, was the single tear that fell from Emrys’ left eye. Arthur could see something beyond anger in his student’s unforgiving blue eyes; and he suddenly felt fucking horrible.

Before he could stop himself, he rubbed his thumb across the back of Emrys’ left hand where the tear fell and heard both of their breaths catch.

_Stop it, Arthur_

Arthur quickly pulled his hand away and averted his eyes to the files on the floor.

“Meet me after your lessons this afternoon please, Emrys. I think we need to fix things.”

And without either of them saying another word, Arthur watched Emrys’ feet rush out of the door, leaving him to clean the aftermath of their disagreement on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Emrys' outfit in this Chapter, see here:  
> http://guessimaclotpole.tumblr.com/post/178051844674/merlins-outfit-in-chapter-4
> 
> Please leave feedback where possible! I'd love to hear from those of you bothering to read this!


	5. Truce (E)

  
After suffering through a long and treacherous Composing class that afternoon, Emrys found himself wandering along a third-floor corridor looking for Arthur’s office. His mind was thick with nothing other than regret.

He had known Lady Bella for a long time, and though she had tried to re-assure him in a text message that she only meant well- he felt utterly humiliated, and for more reasons that one. Of course, snogging his best friend’s face off was one thing, but Emrys had vowed to himself that his singing was only for him and those he was closest to.

When they were younger, Emrys used to always sing to Will. For a long time, he was the only person Emrys felt comfortable to do such a thing around. Will always praised his talents and his voice and used to be supportive in so many ways. Emrys would have done anything for him.

He probably still would.

And when Gwen came into his life, it was as though she had been put on the earth purely for him. They were compatible from the start, and Emrys fell head over heels for her. Of course, he was gay and would never consider a romantic relationship with her, much less a sexual one *shudders*. But he knew that he was in love with her, for sure.

After all, what other friend would forgive you so easily for a drunken night of singing, snogging and dry-humping?

 

‘ _Arthur Pendragon  
Teacher of Music’_

Well, here he was. Instead of knocking on the oak door (did they still really use wooden doors?) he chose to just let himself in. He was in no mood for Arthur Pendragon at the moment, and the quicker he could forget about that shitty video, the better.

The door was unlocked, so when he pushed it forward he didn’t expect to be greeted by an Arthur-less room. He paused, wondering whether he should wait back outside, but then he thought _fuck it_ , and decided that he was still a bit hungover, and the lights in here weren’t automatic so they wouldn’t blind him the second he moved.

He spent a moment absorbing his surroundings. The office was relatively small, but spacious, and the large window at the back let in a fair amount of natural light. A grand oak desk stood in the back-left corner of the room, beneath an open Macbook-Pro. Arthur must have been in here quite recently.

But, ever the music student, the thing that grabbed Merlin’s attention the most was the beautiful white Yamaha CLP-675 WH electric piano against the right-hand side wall. He immediately sat atop the stool and turned on the beautiful instrument.

He stretched his fingers several times, before playing a few different scales to warm up. He was sick of having to play classical music that had been drilled into him by his Mother. It was rare that he had the opportunity to play something he wanted to play.

He closed his eyes, because he knew this song by heart- and this way he could let himself into the emotion more.

With every note of _Day We Met – Philip Wesley_ that he played, he could feel his heart swell. This was never the life that he had asked for, or that he had expected. He had been pleased at his Father’s departure, but it left his Mother a broken woman. Not like the mother she used to be; but for a while that was okay. Because he had Will.

And Will was his everything.

He remembered the day of his Mother’s breakdown, and the way Will held his hand through her tantrum. He remembers the first time his Mother went away for a break, and Will volunteered to keep him company over the weekend. They’d spent the whole 3 days locked in the house, only going outside into the garden on the Saturday evening to look at the stars together, hand in hand as always. He remembers the Christmas that Will’s Nana went into hospital, and so he spent the night with Emrys. They shared his single bed, and shared their first kiss, and it was everything Emrys imagined it would be.

But he never really understood what had changed.

He just knew his feelings for Will hadn’t, regardless of what he’d become.

As his fingers worked the keys as though they had known them before, had played them repeatedly, he pushed aside his thoughts of his family, of Will and of the past. And with the last few tears that broke through his closed eyes, he drew out the last remaining notes in a long decrescendo and exhaled a long shaky breath.

Then on opening his eyes, he saw Arthur’s reflection in the shiny surface of the piano, making him jump and turn his head so fast he’d probably need a neck collar.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, leaving Emrys to wonder exactly how long Arthur had been stood there. It wasn’t until Emrys started nervously fidgeting with his hands that Arthur moved towards his desk and sat down.

“That was quite something, Emrys”

And he couldn’t help but smile. Other than Will, no one had ever really appreciated his playing of songs he actually enjoyed.

“Come over and sit down” Arthur said, and gestured to the seat on the other side of his desk. Emrys stood up, replaced the cover on the piano, then started towards the chair Arthur had kept for him. He was a bit tired of keeping up the attitude with Arthur, if he was honest with himself. It had been a laugh until things got out of hand last night, and after today he just wanted to forget about all of it.

It had always been natural for him to set up barriers between himself and others; and doing it with Arthur came even more naturally. It was as though he felt he had to make a show in front of him, but he wasn’t too sure why. Regardless, he was done with it. He just wanted to go home to bed and pretend today hadn’t happened.

He leaned forwards and rested his elbows on the desk and opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t quite find the words he was searching for. Instead, he dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

He heard Arthur chuckle in front of him before he spoke.

“You know, Emrys, if you are that hungover you could have just called in sick.”

And then when he didn’t reply straight away, Emrys felt a hand over each of his wrists and his face shot up to see Arthur holding each one and pulling them away from his face.

“It won’t do to hide from it either. The quicker we can have this chat, the better. It is extremely warm in this office and I’d very much like to go home.”

Emrys couldn’t think of anything at all to say- he couldn’t even think because he was _not_ expecting those hands on his, or how gentle and warm they were against his own cool and delicate skin.

As usual, his mouth spoke for him, and in not too pleasant a tone.

“If you’re warm, why don’t you take your stupid scarf off?”

At this, Arthur actually threw his head back and laughed.

“Well, if I do make myself comfortable, you have to promise not to go blabbing to the other students, okay?”

And before Emrys could question what the hell that was supposed to mean, Arthur turned his back to him and started mucking around with the window.

Emrys started to get restless and found himself bobbing his legs up and down under the desk, and fidgeting with an idle pen lid that had been discarded at the side of Arthur’s desk. He really didn’t want to be here and he was getting frustrated.

Then it turned into a whole other type of frustration.

Arthur turned around whilst pulling off his scarf and Emrys had to stifle the choking noise forcing it’s way out of his throat.

It’s bad enough that he’s so young but they can fuck off if they think they can hire someone with that many god damn tattoos and not think that the students are going to get wanker’s hand syndrome (which as a pianist, is a very bad thing to have). The evident tattoo sleeves and expanders and _that neck tattoo_ and that beanie hat, god _damn_. Emrys wasn’t usually the type to lust over hipsters, but holy shit. Arthur just went from a 6.5 to a number that he couldn’t even comprehend.

And then he spoke before thinking again, but this time his voice betrayed his thoughts.

“You do realise that neck tattoos make someone instantly fit, don’t you?”

He was half way through the sentence before he realised what he was saying, by which point he couldn’t stop- resulting in the last few words coming out incredibly high pitched.

 _What a fucking fool_.

He’d expected some sort of reprimand or punishment- or even a look of disapproval at the very least, but Arthur just sat opposite him and leant forward on his elbows. He looked Emrys dead in the eyes, and Emrys wasn’t going to be the one to break that gaze and show weakness. Instead, he looked right back into those amazing blue eyes, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything so mesmerising in his life.

They sat that way for an uncomfortably long time, just searching each other’s eyes- and no one breathed a word for a long time. Not until Arthur caught him off guard yet again by taking his hand across the desk. Emrys swore that Arthur hesitated a moment to just hold him, but he knew he was probably wrong, because Arthur then lifted his hand and shook it, before finally breaking the deafening silence.

“Look, you’re an adult and I am quite literally only three years older than you. I’m not going to keep going on like this. So… friends?”

And Emrys just looked at him stunned, before barking out a solitary laugh.

Arthur smirked, but Emrys swore he looked a little disheartened- and so he decided, yeah. They probably could get on better if they tried.

Emrys smirked before giving Arthur’s hand a little squeeze and replying.

“I could never be friends with such an arse”

And with that, they shared a proper laugh- and it was the first time Merlin had laughed like this, sober, in a long, long time.

Suddenly, classes with Arthur didn’t seem like such a bad thing anymore.

 

* * *

 

He heads home and finally charges his phone. He didn’t get home until a rather unrespectable time and he fell asleep fully dressed. The last thing he’d thought about was charging the thing, and then after sleeping in and not having time to shower… Well, let’s just say he hadn’t been in the best state that morning, and he only had 14%... which lasted him long enough to speak to Gwen and clear the air.

So, when his phone sprung to life, he was surprised to see that he’d had 4 missed calls, all from Will. All in the last hour.

He’d had a decent day at Uni if you left out the whole video-sharing and hangover nonsense, and he’d decided to walk home, and to let the warm end-of-summer air replenish him of the nutrients he had all but vomited out the previous night.

He didn’t want to ruin his good mood, and so he didn’t call back. Instead he took his phone into the bathroom once it had enough battery and put his piano playlist on while he had a shower.

He was in the middle of running shampoo through his tattered black hair when his phone rang. So he bit the bullet and stuck his head out the shower to answer it.

He hadn’t realised it was a face-time call until he answered, and Will’s face popped up on his screen.

His beautiful face.

And regardless of everything, Emrys could only smile when he saw him and long to touch the face that was currently miles away in Scotland for University.

Will flashed him a smile in return, but it wasn’t genuine. And he spoke soon after.

“Merls, I am so sorry. I can’t even begin to explain. I was in the moment and I was an absolute dickhead and I should never ever have made you feel that way, not while I was… Anyway, I was trying to call to apologise and I saw that video which you obviously didn’t consent to being posted online and that is fucked up, you were clearly drunk and it’s my job to help you through shit like this but it’s the first time I can’t be there, and Merls, I feel fucking horrible... I just want to hold you until it’s better”

And there he was. His old Will had come out to play.

Emrys smiled to himself- a sad smile. Because this is what he wanted. This Will right here was what he wanted, but he never stayed long.

“It’s okay, Will. We’ll just stay on the line and pretend we’re with each other. But you’ll have to stare at my ceiling until I’m finished my shower.” He said with a giggle, and Will laughed in response.

“Yeah, no worries mate.”

And they talked about their courses, and how Will immediately regretted choosing history after his A-levels because he’s only started a week ago and it was a ‘flaming pile of shit’. They laughed together as they talked about Emrys’ drunk singing, and how Will had cling-filmed his room-mate’s door the other day- and this was how they used to be. They’d laugh and talk and lose track of time and they could be idiots together, and it didn’t matter because they were all that mattered.

At least until Emrys actually asked Will out two years ago. That had been a tough day.

A horrible day.

They had been kissing for years, and this particular day they’d been at the beach and it was pretty late. They’d held hands all night and laughed and joked and Emrys thought it was the most romantic place for it. And so he asked.

And he’ll never forget how the colour left Will’s face, and how fast he ran, leaving Emrys on the beach alone at night.

But then Will had pretended it had never happened, and he never brought it up. And they’d done everything since then, everything except kissing.

They hadn’t kissed since that night.

“Merls..”

Scared for a moment that he’d accidentally uttered something aloud, Emrys replied with a “hmm?” before Will continued, his voice low from the other side of the shower curtain.

“Do you remember that night after the gig in independent? Where we went back to yours and we were drunk, but not drunk enough to forget…”

Emrys did remember, because it had both of their first times. And what a first time it was. He let Will continue, noticing how breathless he was as he spoke.

“And when we got back you said you wanted a shower, but I asked to go first because someone spilled that pint on me… and you…”

“I suggested we have one together?”

And Emrys’ hand found his already hard length, and began to stroke it with a solitary finger, up and down the underside of his shaft- just as Will had done that night,

They both talked about the details of their first time, listening to each other’s moans and gasps from either side of Emrys’ shower curtain, before Will reached his climax, and talked Emrys through his.

“Come on, Merls. I want to hear it when you come. Just like when you came right inside me that day, when you filled me up and after that I knew I was only yours.”

Emrys stopped immediately, eyes wide.

_That struck a nerve._

And Emrys stormed out of the shower, picking up his phone and stomping his way through to the bedroom over Will’s shouts of confusion.

He propped the phone up on his pillow the best he could with his hand shaking with rage, before wrapping himself in a towel.

“Merlin, why the fuck did you stop?! Are you finished running around now, can we get back to it?”

Emrys laughed, and it was supposed to sound sinister, but it came out maddened and manic.

_I knew I was only yours_

“You have never been mine, Will!” he shouted, and really he was quite surprised he was even capable of shouting so loud. In arguments he tended to go to the disapproving tone or the quiet angry tone, but this was something else. He could feel the rage spilling out of him like lava and it was taking every bit of sanity that he had not to break something.

“You have never, _EVER,_ been mine! Do you not remember the day I asked you to be mine? The day we could have been together, like we are supposed to be? But you ran, Will and you left me- quite literally- in the dark. And it fucking hurt to pretend like it never happened, like you fucking rejected me. Yet you still made me your first, and you still treated me as though I belonged to you.

So what it is Will? Do you want me or do you not? Because I am so fucking tired of not knowing where I am or who I’m supposed to be.”

And Will looked at him with a blank face and Emrys knew that he was trying to decide what angle to take here.

And he’s used the angle that Emrys knew would hurt more.

“I’m sorry, Merls” he said, lowering his head “I was so scared and shocked, and I didn’t know what else to do. And you never asked again after that, so I thought you didn’t want to anymore and… I just… I would have said yes if you asked again.”

Then suddenly- as much as he tried to suppress it because even though he loved Will with all of his heart, he despised him too- the words came out before he could stop them.

“Okay then, Will. Will you be my boyfriend?”

And silence befell them, and they stared at each other through the phone. Emrys held Will’s gaze firmly. He already knew what Will would say, he just never wanted to have to deal with the rejection again. And when Will broke eye contact and looked down again, Emrys’ suspicions had been confirmed.

“Sorry Emrys, it’s different now.”

And then old Will was gone again.

And Emrys had been rejected again.

He grabbed the phone and hung up the call. He wasn’t good at making spontaneous decisions, but right now he didn’t give a fuck. He needed to forget this. He needed out. He needed something.

 

 **Gwen: 18:57  
E:** [I’m in a really bad place right now. Will just called and I can’t do it anymore, Gwen. Can we go out? Like just come through mine and we’ll head to Durham and you can just stay here. Please?]

 

This time they’d go out for a quiet drink, so Emrys could talk about his feelings and finally open up to Gwen about Will properly. Someone had to know.

 

 __ **Gwen: 18:57  
E:** [I’m in a really bad place right now. Will just called and I can’t do it anymore, Gwen. Can we go out? Like just come through mine and we’ll head to Durham and you can just stay here. Please?]   
**G:** [On my way. I’ll bring some gin to yours then we’ll head out. Be thankful I’m off uni tomorrow!]

 

He really did love her to pieces, sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Philip Wesley's 'Day We Met' see here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMpz8bEtP24
> 
> and show it some love, because it is beautiful.
> 
>  
> 
> And for Emrys' piano playlist, see here:  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/12178026983/playlist/2AnEyTvrUNScE948jdSNFU?si=ROSEmLoCSMOyYEX-Pxdhbg


	6. Violation (A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning:  
> This chapter contains scenes of implied sexual abuse.
> 
> (I'm sorry)

Arthur drove home from work with a smile on his face that day. It didn’t matter that he had a nice stack of manuscript to analyse, or that Cenred was visiting for a few days (Arthur made him get a hotel room, much to Morgana’s horror)- because he had finally settled things with Emrys, and they were friends.

Well, friends in a teacher/student way. Not proper friends, of course.

When he arrived home, Arthur started sifting through his students’ work and organising it into piles: One for the worksheets Arthur had handed out, and one for the students who had attempted the chord substitutions.

He decided to sit at his piano and work through the chord substitutions first. It wasn’t really hard to chop and change chords in such a simple song, and he couldn’t deny that he was disappointed that not every student had at least attempted it.

Most of the substitutions were fairly simple. People had been replacing the odd chord with a relative minor, a sus 4 or a major 7. One student had even gone as far as to incorporate a few Neapolitan 6th chords which was well above the level they were expected to work at.

Arthur reached the bottom of the pile before he realised that Emrys’ chord substitutions weren’t there, but he knew that Emrys had handed them in. He searched through both piles of work again, before finding it buried at the bottom of the wrong pile, between two of another student’s work papers.

_Well if Emrys hadn’t knocked them all on the floor we wouldn’t have gotten into this mess._

The first thing that caught Arthur off guard was that Emrys hadn’t used the Sibelius template that Arthur had given them. The second thing was that Emrys had hand written the entire score; and the third…

_Hell_

He hadn’t even copied the original song. He had written his own complete take on it. This wasn’t just a chord substitution, this was a complete re-graft of a song. That’s why he was at the keyboard in class. How the _hell_ did he do this in less than two hours?

Arthur practically sprinted to his piano, and immediately started to play along to the music and praising the heavens that he could actually sight read (for once, he actually appreciated it), and _Gods_ how the hell had he managed to do this?

As he played along, Arthur began to recognise exactly _why_ Emrys had received that scholarship. He had taken the only salvageable elements of a totally shit song and surrounded them with just the right amount of colour. He had written it for piano, and piano alone. No awful eighties snare drums and horrific synth… just slow, dynamic passion that Arthur could practically feel pulsing through his veins and fingers into the keys. His right hand playing around the simplified melody while his left caressed the sustained arpeggios.

It was just him and his piano, and yet somehow it felt as though Emrys was there.

There was emotion in this song that Arthur could never have associated with a piece of music like this before.

Emrys was a fucking genius.

 

This time he was interrupted by applause before he even finished.

He could smell his presence before he even turned to look at him. See, Cenred seemed to think, since being associated with Morgana, that he was worth rather a lot of money. After Uther died, they made the joint decision to sell the company and well… their inheritance hadn’t been that shy of a small fortune either.

So Cenred felt the need to actually look like he was rich, even though he was a far cry from it. He stood in the doorway to the living room, and Arthur was sure he could almost _see_ the fumes of the obnoxiously expensive aftershave he was wearing.

He had his long hair slicked back, revealing a solitary diamond stud in his left ear which Arthur cringed at the sight of. He was wearing very-well tailored suit trousers and waistcoat with a white dress shirt which was buttoned down to reveal his hideous hair chest (which Arthur didn’t retch at, honest). He’d probably look relatively human to any normal person, but to Arthur he was nothing more than a complete and utter slime-ball, and quite honestly, he reminded him of Severus Snape; only in the Harry Potter AU where he was dating Lily and sleeping with some dirty little blonde slag on the side.

Morgana might have forgiven him, but Arthur hadn’t.

“Well, wasn’t that a pretty little song! Who are you trying to woo?” Cenred was sporting a sly smile as he eyed Arthur from across the room and Arthur just wanted to punch that fucking look off his face.

“I’m not trying to woo anyone. Some of us need time to move on after a break-up, actually. We aren’t all fortunate enough to have already been _ploughing_ someone before we even got the chance to leave our current girlfriend”

Yeah, that did the trick.

The colour physically drained from Cenred’s face and Arthur had to stifle a laugh while he watched him clench his fists by his sides. As if Cenred would even _dare_ touch him in his own house- and even if he did try, Arthur would fucking bury him.

“Boys, play nice”

And there she was, the evil sister coming in to ruin the fun before it even starts.

Morgana placed a hand on Cenred’s shoulder and reached up to kiss him on the cheek, and Arthur watched that smile crawl back onto his face. _Urgh._

“Arthur, your new things are hanging up on your wardrobe, we’re going out!”

Arthur immediately opened his mouth to protest but Morgana lifted a threatening finger at him.

“Arthur Pendragon, you have the day off tomorrow and I have bought you a new outfit, so you will go and get changed and come into Durham with us or so help me you’ll be teaching with no eyebrows the rest of the week!”

The thing is, she really would shave off his eyebrows; and in a totally non-camp way- he was rather attached to them. So, he didn’t have to be told twice.

He shoved his way between Morgana and Cenred, making sure to shoulder barge the piece of slimy shit on his way past- he didn’t care if it was childish- and he took the stairs at a brisk jog.

The upstairs section of his house was barely even lived in. The bathroom was the standard half-white tile and grey walls that most houses these days had, with very little in the way of objects to fill it. Arthur really did only have the bare minimum in here; but he still kept two toothbrushes.

It wasn’t that he was going to ever ask Elena to come back, but if she ever did…

Anyway, after freshening up he made his way to his room, in which all the walls were magnolia and boxes upon boxes lay strewn across the floor. Other than his wardrobe and the bed there was no furniture. He needed to get the wardrobe into the dressing room and get his shit together. He made a mental note to get the place sorted at some point, before opening the clothes bag on the wardrobe to reveal the outfit Morgana had bought for him.

She might be an absolute pain in the arse at times, but if there was one way to bribe him into going out in public with that dirty scumbag, then this was the way.

He wasn’t sure where they were going, but it must be somewhere formal. For Cenred to be wearing a suit like that and Morgana wearing a brand new black cocktail dress…

 _God_ , he was going to stick out like a sore thumb. Nothing screams third wheel like going somewhere with a couple who are wearing matching outfits. He rested his head against the wardrobe door before chuckling to himself.

Well at least he’ll look better than Cenred.

He pulled on the black skinny jeans and the white button-down shirt, making sure to leave the first few buttons undone. If bearing his chest meant saving the women of Durham from the terrible fate of eye-balling Cenred’s Oddbod chest, then it was a risk he was willing to take.

After pulling it over his arms and buttoning it up, he admired the tweed waistcoat and the way it fit him _perfectly._ He was sure that Morgana had someone size him up while he’d been asleep because these clothes were impossibly snug, yet comfortable and they highlighted the fact that Arthur had been using the University gym.

Hell, he looked _good._

He raked out his beige chukkas and stepped into them, before spraying himself with Hugo Boss _The Scent For Him Intense_. He only usually ever used this on special occasions, but he did _not_ want to be able to smell Cenred all night.

He paused at the landing to look in the free-standing mirror there. He rolled up his sleeves, as always, and then he turned to admire the back of the waistcoat, which was denim blue.

He thought about sticking his hat back on, but no. They were obviously going somewhere half-decent so instead he decided to run back into the bathroom and grabbed his got2be products. He hadn’t styled his hair in the ‘sexed up and windswept’ style since graduation…

But why the hell not?

 

* * *

 

At around 8 o’clock they found themselves back at The Boat Club; the pub by the river where Morgana sprayed black sambuca out of her nose… It was a wonder she had even let them return – but on seeing the poster on the window, Arthur immediately knew why.

They were having what appeared to be a posh version of an open mic night hosted by some sort of local Pianist. Upon entering, Arthur noted how the tables near to the performance space had been cleared to made room for a large Kawai grand piano in Ebony.

“That must have cost a bloody fortune” he found himself saying aloud before approaching the stage area to admire the other instruments there. A Westbury double bass, a few violins, a couple of flutes and clarinets, a tenor saxophone and an alto saxophone, a premium Gretsch drumkit and a fucking glorious looking harp.

Morgana would be all over that.

He immediately took a seat at a table positioned between the staging area and the bar, and Cenred went off to get the drinks.

It would be an interesting night indeed.

 

* * *

 

Sometime later (Arthur wasn’t entirely sure how much later it was because his phone was dead and he forgot his watch but was that fucking wrecked that he couldn’t give two shites) the bell rang at the bar and someone shouted that it was the last call for drinks.

But Arthur was far from finished. He’d been up and performed the odd couple of minuets and sonatas, before bringing the house down into laughter when he conducted the Pink Panther theme, then of course the alcohol went to his hands and he started making a fool of himself so Morgana played a few things on the harp and people slow-danced to her music, but all Arthur could think about (and also tell everybody who would listen about) was how everything she played just sounded like the song the Harp played in the Philosopher’s Stone when Quirrell had enchanted it to play Fluffy to sleep.

He was just about at the bar ready to buy himself a Southern Comfort and Lemonade when Cenred swung an arm over his shoulder and pulled him away.

“My driiiiink” said Arthur in what could only be described the voice of a Simpleton.

Cenred swung him around so they were facing one another, and placed a hand on either of Arthur’s shoulders, giving him a brisk shake that made the contents of his stomach slosh around in a rather unpleasant way.

“I’ve asked Morgana, and she’s happy to hit a few more clubs before we go home if you’re up for it?”

Now, if someone had asked Arthur three hours ago, whether he’d be willing to drink with Cenred until the early hours of the morning- he would have laughed himself in to a fit of hysteria – but under the influence of many double whiskies, Arthur found Cenred’s company to be rather pleasant, and so being the drunken idiot he was, he agreed.

“Of course, I’m up for it, mate!” and then he pulled Cenred into a hug, and if that didn’t signify that he was too far gone, he wasn’t sure anything ever would.

And so, when they found themselves in a little nightclub called Klute, Arthur was so mortal that he didn’t put two and two together.

He and Morgana were ordering drink after drink, and then Cenred was buying them jagerbombs and aftershocks and sourz shots and soon his head was buzzing from behind his eyes and he really couldn’t figure out a way to swing off those scaffolding poles for the lights without dying, but it still seemed awfully tempting.

Neither he or Morgana noticed how little Cenred had drank that night, and how much he’d spent on actually buying drinks for the two of them. So of course, Arthur had barely noticed that Cenred had disappeared until Morgana mentioned it.

“Arrrtttieeeee! Can you try and find Cenred??!!! He’s been gone for aaaagesss!”

Immediately assuming Cenred would be as drunk as they were, Arthur checked the toilets. Cenred wasn’t in there at all, but people were sniffing lines off the sink counter, so he got out as quick as possible. He was all for a good drink, but he wouldn’t be doing any of that, thank you very much.

He made his way through the dancefloor and tried shouting for Morgana. It was a lost cause really because no one could hear a think over the blaring music of clean bandit, and he definitely wasn’t going to be able to see Morgana amongst this sea of flailing bodies.

Instead, he tried to fish his phone out of his pocket, when a gentle hand rested over his on his side.

He jumped a mile before looking up to see a girl, about his age, looking at him with heavy, sparkling eyes through her straight blonde hair.

A million thoughts went through his mind at that moment, but the most prominent one was that he’d been tossing himself off over a male student for the last couple of days and he wasn’t even gay. He was straight, and would prove that to himself, and to her.

He didn’t even think, he just took her face in his hands and kissed, and then they were fumbling and falling and in their ridiculous drunken stupor, they found themselves out the back of the club in a shabby deserted beer garden.

Normally he was above public indecency but _Christ,_ he hadn’t had any in ages and she seemed so eager, he didn’t want to interrupt…

But then that’s when he heard it.

The noise was enough for sobriety to slap him hard across the face, and he immediately pulled away from this girl. She stormed off, clearly offended, but he didn’t care.

He knew that smell, and it was so potent even over the stench of cigarettes and spirits and vomit.

“Don’t be such a fucking bitch and just give me what I want”

Then there was a sound of a scuffle.

“You can’t over power me, you little shit!”

And then the sound of a hit.

Arthur was out of the gates before he could think, and he didn’t bother to look to see Morgana on the floor, he just bounded to Cenred and blood was rushing through his veins, and _how stupid could he have been to fucking let Cenred get him drunk?_ And he found himself running before his fist was crushing bone and Cenred was on the floor in front of him, completely unresponsive, nose well and truly flattened. Rather unflatteringly, his fly was un-done and his trousers were tugged down slightly, revealing a little more than Arthur wanted to see.

What the hell was he trying to do to Morgana?

 _Morgana_.

Arthur swung round, his head still spinning with rage- only to find that it wasn’t Morgana who Cenred had tried to attack.

“Arthur?” it was almost a whimper, almost a cry. His black skinny jeans hugged his body perfectly, and he was wearing a plain black fitted shirt with the sleeved rolled up- and that mess of black hair was _styled_ to look messier than usual. But that wasn’t what caught Arthur attention. Nor was it the fact that he was wearing bloody eyeliner… no.

It was the fact that his shirt buttons were undone at the top, the button to his jeans was undone and he was sporting a couple of cuts to his eyebrow and lip, surrounded by already forming bruises.

Cenred had just tried to sexually assault Emrys.

Arthur ran over and took the boy’s hand. He hadn't meant for it to happen but their fingers intertwined and if it hadn't been so fucking horrible- all of it- he might have smiled at the thought. They locked eyes before running through the bar, and alerting the staff of Cenred’s state.

"We need a taxi" Arthur said. He was still too unfamiliar with parts of this city and he needed to get Emrys away from this mess as soon as possible.

Emrys signalled right and so they ran until they reached a taxi rank, and after getting some foul looks and possibly some drunken death threats- they skipped the queue and jumped in the first taxi available.

They held hands all the way home, and when they were on an empty road somewhere, Arthur spoke.

"Your lip..."

and he held up his hand to brush his thumb over the cut.

They locked eyes again for a moment before the taxi pulled up.

Arthur tossed £20 at the taxi driver, telling him to keep the change and rushed to get inside.

It wasn’t until they were walking through the front door of Arthur's house, hand in hand, that Arthur’s brain pieced things together.

He had just left a nightclub holding hands with his own student.

His own student who was in a state of half-undress.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Arthur's outfit, see here:  
> http://guessimaclotpole.tumblr.com/post/178314063274/pair-these-with-some-black-skinnies-expanders-and
> 
> For anyone wondering, Sibelius is a music writing software programme.  
> Neopolitan 6 chords, sus 4s and major sevens are just different types of chords.
> 
> I try not to overload the story with too much musical terminology where I can help it.


	7. A Dark Reminder (E)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a necessary mini-chapter.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Details of sexual and physical abuse.

_He was out in the street running with Will. They had been out playing kerby for best part of the afternoon but had stopped because of the cold; and because Will had smacked him upside the head and shouted ‘tig!’._

_The snow had just started to fall when Emrys noticed his Father, Balinor, turn into the street. His father had bought the second-hand Volvo just before Will’s 9 th birthday. He’d always remember because he and Will held hands for the first time in the back seat. _

_“I’m 9 now Merls” he had whispered into Emrys’ ear. “I’m old enough to do something I have always wanted to try”_

_And even though Emrys hadn’t turned 9 yet, Will assured him it was okay, and that he wouldn’t tell anyone._

_So, when Balinor left his car extremely red in the face, Emrys couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong. Will ran after him, telling him not to go in._

_But Emrys opened the door._

_And there was his Mother, pinned against the hallway wall by his Father. One of his hands gripped her neck._

_“You think you’re a pretty little bitch don’t you?” his Father had said._

 

“Mmmm, aren’t you a pretty little bitch” a voice said as Emrys took a drag of his cigarette.

Before he could turn to retaliate, the man was on him – the smell of heinously strong aftershave and expensive shampoo.

“Come on, let me kiss you” he growled as he forced Emrys’ hands behind his back and placed a filthy kiss against the left side of his neck.

Emrys tried to struggle free, so instead he nutted the man – the hit sending a searing pain through the side of his left eyebrow, but it didn’t work. Emrys had never been strong. Definitely not strong enough for this.

Instead, he tried to shout but the man’s hand slapped over his mouth. Emrys bit his finger.

“Oh, I like a feisty one” the man grumbled in a predatory tone, undoing Emrys’ fly with one hand.

 

_“Oh, going to play feisty are we?” his Father growled in his Mother’s ear. “Is that what you did for him as well?”_

_And then with a crack, his Father’s hand hit Hunith’s face and she sobbed._

_Emrys charged and started punching his Father from behind, and when his Father turned and grabbed his hands, his Mother’s scream gave him a sudden rush of adrenaline and he_ somehow _managed to free himself from Balinor’s vice-like grip._

_He looked into his Father’s face and it was like nothing he had ever seen. Gone was the man he called Dad._

_Gone was any humanity._

_He punched his Father in the nose and his Mother sobbed._

_“You can’t overpower me, you little shit!” and his Father lunged for him. Emrys was sure they would all die that day, but then Will was there, and he pushed Emrys aside._

“You can’t over power me, you little shit!” the man shouted when Emrys managed to loosen his hands free and push the man away. He was too busy trying to find a way out of this when his hand struck Merlin’s face, smashing his teeth into his lip and knocking him off balance so he fell to the floor.

Then the gate to the beer garden swung open and he stormed into the back lane and headed straight for the man. He was strong and blonde and beautiful and _angry._

And he was Arthur.

And suddenly he was there, picking Emrys off the ground and ushering him inside.

He hadn’t had a single alcoholic drink that night, but he’d never felt so drunk in his life. The music made his head vibrate all over and he could feel his heartbeat trying to keep up with the thumping bass line. Arthur was looking at him and speaking but he didn’t hear anything until they were outside. The air knocked the wind out of him a bit and he didn’t know what to do or where to go.

“We need a taxi!” Arthur shouted at him. Emrys just turned and stared right and Arthur dragged him that way.

If it weren’t for the blonde keeping him going, he would have just fallen. His knees were ready to give and he was finished. He wasn’t ready for any more of this, he just wanted to sleep.

But then he was helped into the taxi and before he knew it, it was quiet.

The first thing he was made fully aware of when his eyes came back into focus, was his fingers entwined with Arthur’s on the middle seat between them. He was sure it wasn’t really his hand, he had to wriggle his fingers to be sure.

This made Arthur turn to him.

He looked over Emrys’ face with a look of guilt in his eyes, before bringing his right hand over near Emrys’ face.

Emrys flinched immediately, and Arthur’s eyes widened in apology, before his sopped his hand mid-air, and moved it slower to Emrys’ cheek.

His fingers were cold against his cheek, a welcome sensation against his throbbing mouth.

“Your lip…” whispered Arthur as his thumb wiped at the blood there.

That was all Arthur said until they got into what Emrys assumed was his house.

 

* * *

 

Arthur guided him to the couch and gave him some ice wrapped in a towel, before running upstairs and returning with arms full of blankets and cushions.

He made sure Emrys was comfortable but didn’t say a word. He began to pace behind the sofa, his hands running through his messed-up hair and wiping down his face.

“I need my phone” he said and left the room.

Emrys was curled up on the right side of the sofa. He’d like to say what he was thinking or feeling, but there was nothing. Just the pain in his face and the sound of Arthur’s shouting coming from another room. He listened to the shouting for… for however long it went on for, before Arthur returned and slumped himself on the couch next to him.

Emrys tried to turn away slightly. Arthur had undeniably just saved him from… but he still didn’t want to look at him.

He didn’t want anyone to see how weak he was.

Or so he thought.

“Emrys?” Arthur’s tone was gentle now, and Emrys turned to see that Arthur was facing him, one leg curled on the couch. “is there anything I can do?”

And he had been expecting and ‘are you okay?’ or ‘what did he do?’ but neither of those followed. Instead, Arthur was asking him the only thing that could actually make him feel any better, even if he couldn’t answer.

Tears began to fill his eyes and he tried his best to blink them away. He watched as Arthur’s eyes flickered between his and then his teacher, his _friend_ , opened his arms.

“Come here”

And Emrys wrapped himself around Arthur’s chest and sobbed into his waistcoat, while Arthur brushed his hand through his hair.

 

* * *

 

_Will had gotten his Dad to come over. His Dad wrestled Balinor out of the house and into his car while Will’s Mum took Hunith into her house next door._

_All it took was for Emrys to look once into Will’s eyes and he sobbed, throwing himself at his best friend. Will cradled him and shushed him and kissed his head while Emrys listened to his Father’s car take off down the street._

_“He’s not worth your tears, Merls. He isn’t worth anything.” And Emrys cried harder into Will’s shirt._

_It took a bit of time before he had the courage to look up, and Will just turned to him and pressed his forehead to Emrys’._

_“You still have me, Merls. You always will.”_

_And Emrys nodded against Will’s head before speaking._

_“I love you, Will”_

_“I love you too”_

_And it was the only time he ever said it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kerby is a game which involves two people sitting either side of a road, throwing a ball across it in attempt to hit edge of the sidewalk.
> 
>  
> 
> Tig is just north-eastern for tag.


	8. Act Professional (A)

When Arthur’s eyes blinked open from a dreamless sleep, he found himself pushed back against the arm of his sofa with Emrys snuggled into him with his head against his shoulder. He still had a hand buried in that messy black hair, and another wrapped around his student’s side.

_His student_

Arthur recalled the events of last night as clear as day. Without the amount he had had to drink, he really shouldn’t have remembered, but he guessed something like that was hard to forget. When Arthur had received Emrys’ learner profile from Gaius, it had said he had a history of depression and anxiety, which he had seemed to overcome before becoming cocky and quite the trouble maker. With him being over 18, there wasn’t too much detail, but it did say that his mental health was a result of something that started with a traumatic event in his childhood.

Arthur didn’t need to know what the event was, only that Emrys didn’t deserve to go through anything else.

As he lay with his student asleep in his arms, he thought about his position in this situation. If Emrys called the police on Cenred, then Arthur would likely be investigated too. He knew the policies; he would be given paid leave until the case against him had been investigated. The thing was, though, was that he had done nothing other than defend Emrys and take him to a safe place. He was innocent, regardless of the thoughts currently residing somewhere in the back of his mind.

He had to get Emrys to call the police. Cenred had finally done enough for people to see what he really was, and Arthur would be damned if he let him get away with anything else. He deserved the punch Arthur threw at him, and he deserved to be left to bleed in the alleyway. Arthur had done him a noble favour by alerting the staff. He was probably being swaddled in a hospital somewhere about now.

The thought was sickening.

He decided to push thoughts of Cenred aside for now- he could deal with all of that in the morning. For now, he was more concerned about the young man asleep in his arms. I had been a _long_ time since anyone had fell asleep in Arthur’s arms. Elena hadn’t actually slept with him like that for ages. They weren’t very intimate at all towards the end. They didn’t hold hands, they didn’t hug and the kisses that they shared were more out of routine than want.

It was nice, to have someone fall asleep in his arms for a change. He only wished the circumstances had been different. What bothered him, however, was that he didn’t wish for it to have been a different person snoring into his shoulder.

What was it about this Emrys that made him so… no, Arthur wouldn’t call him appealing because he doesn’t feel that way about the male species at all, thank you very much. But he supposed if he _were_ to look at it from a gay man’s point of view, or even from a girl’s point of view, he could see attraction. The boy was his own statement. His own mood. Arthur was used to the people in his life just doing what he wanted them to, but Emrys seemed to purposefully aggravate him. There was also something in the way he _looked_ at Arthur. The way his eyes looked him up and down every lesson. The only time Arthur had even seen him acting relatively natural was when he stood in the door to his office and watched Emrys play his piano. He should have been angry but how the hell could he have been? The way he played was mesmerising. Arthur could feel the emotion pouring out of him, he could feel the song pulling him in and just the memory was enough to make his stomach flutter.

Christ, who the fuck was he kidding? He was definitely attracted to Emrys, but he still wasn’t gay or bi. He still didn’t like men.

Just Emrys.

But there it was again. Emrys was his student and God help him if anyone ever found out that he was currently sat with the boy buried in his chest. Arthur could feel his warmth seeping through his shirt and he wanted it to remind him of Elena, of when they first got together and he was so smitten, so _in love._ But had he been? Why didn’t this make him miss her? Why didn’t this make his desire for her return?

Why did he have to fight the urge to kiss Emrys’ hair?

That’s right. He didn’t have to fight the urge, because Emrys was asleep and he’d never know.

Arthur rested his face against the back of Emrys’ head and inhaled. He smelled like shampoo and hairspray, and a little bit like the aftershave he must have applied before leaving his house yesterday. He began to stroke his hand through Emrys’ hair again, before pressing his lips together and placing a gentle kiss against his head.

It’s the most he’s ever be able to do, and he’d rather be fucked by Cenred himself than try anything else with Emrys. Not after what had just happened.

No, Arthur wasn’t the type to take advantage.

So instead, he breathed in Emrys’ scent again before letting out one long exhale and pressing a final kiss to his head.

“Look at you” came the voice from behind him and he nearly shot through the roof with fright. The only thing stopping him was knowing that he didn’t want Emrys to wake up. Instead he sharply pulled his hands away from Emrys’ body and spun his head to see Morgana sat on his computer chair.

She looked at Arthur with a mixture of adoration, sympathy and envy. She had obviously returned from Durham and changed into a nightdress. She cradled a mug in her hands, and she had tear tracks down her cheeks and puffy red eyes.

She’d been crying.

“I swear Morgana, I can explain what this is if you let me find a way of standing up without disturbing him.”

She half-smiled, half-sobbed before replying.

“You don’t have to explain to me that you’ve brought another man home, Arthur. I don’t care. I just wanted to tell you that Cenred had to go to hospital. The bar found him in the alley, someone had punched him and knocked him out. But he woke up and said he didn’t want to be with me anymore. He said he was going back to London to get his things and that he’d move back with his Dad in America next week”

Arthur took a moment to process this information. Morgana didn’t know what happened. But then, how could she know? She wasn’t there, and it wasn’t like Cenred would dare tell her… and he was planning on- _no._

“The slimy fucking bastard, he can’t move, Morgana!” Arthur whispered aggressively. He carefully slid his arms out of the Emrys tangle he was in, before elevating the boy’s body and grabbing a big cushion and somehow swapping places with it. Emrys didn’t even flinch as he clambered off the couch.

Morgana had gone back to crying, and Arthur didn’t want to tell her like this but he had no choice. That bastard wasn’t going to flee the country. He wasn’t going to run away from what he had just done to Arthur’s… Arthur’s- friend? Yeah. No. His student.

Yeah, his student.

He walked over to Morgana and took her hand, leading her through a side door into the chilly dining room. This was easily the most neglected room in Arthur’s house. The table and chairs still had the clear plastic covers on, and there were still boxes of books and DVD strewn across the floor.

Arthur led Morgana to a chair and sat her down before kneeling in front of her, and like that he told her everything that happened.

 

* * *

 

He expected her to cry, or to not believe him. But she didn’t cry, and instead looked down at the now empty mug between her hands and nodded. She didn’t say a word and this was possibly worse. She had known what he was like and she wasn’t surprised.

But she still stayed with him.

Arthur took a hold of Morgana chin with his fingertips and lifted it slightly so she’d meet his gaze.

“Morgana, please tell me the truth. Did he ever hurt you like that? Did he ever do anything to you?”

She laughed a little. A satirical laugh, her smile not meeting her eyes.

“Of course, he didn’t, Arthur. I can defend myself and I would have if he ever dared try something like that. We just weren’t very close, that’s all. I mean we’d act the couple in public but when we were alone he’d go off to do his own thing. There were no hugs, no snuggles, no laughs. It wasn’t like it used to be, you know?”

And Arthur did know. He knew perfectly well.

“Yeah, I think I do actually”

He stood up from the ground and Morgana stood too, setting her cup down on the covered table and leaning forward into his arms.

“Thank you, Arthur. You are the worlds most amazing brother, and Dad would have been so unbelievably proud of the man you are.”

Arthur smiled as he rested his head atop his sister’s. He wasn’t the type to divulge in complimentary and emotional conversations like this, so instead he snickered to himself.

“I’m not sure he’d be happy seeing me curled up on a sofa with another bloke”

Morgana pulled back from his hug and slapped his arm.

“Arthur Pendragon! Our father might have been old-fashioned but he would have supported you with anything in the world. You were his entire universe. If you wanted to introduce him to your new boyfriend then I’m sure he’d be more than happy about it” she replied with a genuine smile that Arthur was over the moon to see. It’s a shame his face completely dropped in response to what she had said.

“No, no, no, no, no. He’s not my boyfriend he’s actu-”

“It’s okay, Artie, you know I’ll keep it a secret!” she teased, and Arthur could feel himself getting annoyed. He couldn’t let her think that. He couldn’t let _anyone_ think that.

“No, Morgana” he said, loud enough to bring her to silence and properly grab her attention. “He’s my student. He is in my classes at the University. That’s why I was so shaken on seeing him abused. His learner profiles… he…” and then Arthur was tied with what to say because there were confidentiality regulations and like hell was he going to break any more rules.

Morgana looked alarmed for a moment and then her face settled into a gentle smile.

“Arthur, you were kissing his head. I was sat there for ages watching you. You were brushing your hands through his hair and you both looked so _right_ sleeping here with each other that I thought… it doesn’t matter. But if he’s your student then you really need to figure out what you’re doing. You can’t be kissing his hair and hugging him without admitting some sort of feelings. The quicker you do that, the quicker you can either move on or remove yourself from the situation.”

Arthur just stared at her, confusion on his face. This time Morgana took a seat and Arthur sat in her lap, his head leaning down into her hair.

“Arthur, you can’t teach him if you like him. But, as it stands, he is of age and if you can admit that you like him then you must report a conflict of interest with the University.”

Arthur just scrunched his eyes together. He did like Emrys, but it was more than just that. What would his friends think if he started seeing another bloke? What would Leon say? He’d already made a point of disliking Gwaine when he found out he’d slept with that Andrew bloke when they were in college.

God, his best friend would hate him. And there wasn’t just that either…

“This is my first job. It might be legal, but it is horrifically frowned upon. As soon as the year is finished they’ll get rid of me. And I like him being in my classes, hes, er, fun.”

Morgana pushed back at his shoulders, so she could look at his face and Arthur saw the lightbulb moment in her eyes.

“Oh God, Arthur! It’s the little shit from the video! How did I not recognise him!”

Arthur rolled his eyes and slumped back down onto her shoulder.

“Morgana he’s amazing. He’s got such a wonderful personality under there and he wrote this incredible version of a song when I was _horrible_ to him, and he plays piano like… like-”

“Like you do?” Morgana replied, and Arthur sighed.

“Yeah, like me.”

“You really like him then?” She said, her voice taking on a motherly tone.

“Yeah” he replied.

And then Emrys cleared his throat from the doorway.

“Oh, shit” said Morgana as Arthur sprung up out of her lap and ran to him. He tried to reach for Emrys’ hands but he pulled them away, as though they’d been scalded. Arthur’s face darkened with hurt for a moment before he spoke.

“Emrys, are you okay? We need to ring the police, Cenred is going to try and run-”

“Cenred?” Emrys replied, looking at Arthur with obvious fury. “You know him? He one of ya mates, is he? Do ya like makin’ friends with fucking perverts, Arthur?” His hands were clenched, shaking at his sides while he looked between Arthur and Morgana. “This ya girlfriend, is it? She friends with him too?”

Morgana pushed herself from the chair and started towards Emrys, pointing a threatening finger between his eyes.

“Now don’t you fucking dare take that attitude with him. If he wasn’t there you’d be fucked and then what? And FYI I’m not Arthur’s girlfriend, I’m his big sister you little fuck, and you speak to him like that again and I’ll rip your tongue out. Arthur always hated Cenred, and he was right to do so. I should have fucking listened”

And with that, Morgana slowly lowered her finger before storming past Emrys, out of the room. Emrys didn’t watch her go, instead choosing to stare at Arthur- pain in his eyes.

“How long were you stood there?” said Arthur in a low, feeble voice.

“Long enough” answered Emrys.

The two of them kept eye contact for a few moments before Emrys walked forward and tried to reach for Arthur’s hands but it was Arthur’s turn to pull them away.

“We- I can’t, Emrys.” He said, barely more than a whisper. He chose to break his gaze and stare at his feet instead. He didn’t want Emrys to see the look of hurt on his own face.

He felt Emrys lean in close to his ear before the boy whispered “Fine then, but from now you don’t get a fucking say in anything. Am not ringin' the fuckin' police and you and ya lessons can fuck off. A don’t want to see you.” Then Emrys stormed from the house and Arthur just let him go.

The sun was beginning to break through the gaps in the blinds and Arthur stood alone in his dining room in last night’s clothes, looking at his own two feet and stinking of booze and another man’s aftershave.

A beautiful man’s aftershave.

A beautiful, amazing, wonderful person who he had just let walk out of his life. Because it was the right thing to do. The Professional thing to do.

So why did it hurt so much?


	9. My Only Option (E)

The cool, early morning air was a sharp contrast to the blood pulsing violently inside his head. As the door slammed shut behind him, he realised that he had no idea where he was- and he didn’t care. He reached to put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket before realising he wasn’t wearing it. Did he even have it when he left the club?  ****  
** **

_ Great, _ he thought, running his hands through his hair and trying not to think about anything that might have happened in the last 12 hours. All he knew is that he didn’t have his jacket- which meant no money. No money meant no cigarettes, no bus money to get home and all he had was his sodding phone, which had 13% battery life remaining. He ignored the 12 missed calls completely, putting his phone back in his pocket. ****  
** **

Once upon a time he might have questioned how he ended up in such a mess. He might have wondered why things had happened the way they did, and why they always happened to  _ him. _ However, this wasn’t ‘once upon a time’; it was now, and right now he could name at least 20 times his nights had gone to shit in the past year.  ****  
** **

Honestly, he didn’t even have the energy to be surprised anymore. Maybe if he’d had a drink he’d have let that dickhead do whatever it was he was going to do to him. It had been a while after all. But he hadn’t had a drink, and he let his emotions get the better of him. ****  
** **

He let his memory get the better of him. ****  
** **

And what was worse, but  _ Arthur bloody Pendragon _ had to be the one to intervene. Yes, they had made up. Yes. Emrys was sick of bickering with his lecturer- but that didn’t mean he was happy with Arthur seeing his weak side. ****  
** **

He was even less happy with Arthur taking him home- that was until everything happened. ****  
** **

At the time he wasn’t thinking, and quite obviously, Arthur hadn’t been thinking either. Emrys might not be a teacher but he isn't stupid. He knows Arthur could lose his job for taking him out of that club. He’d dread to think what would happen if people found out he had fallen asleep in Arthur’s arms. ****  
** **

He’d dread to think what would happen if anyone found out that he’d liked it. ****  
** **

And then if that wasn’t haunting enough, he’d woken up to hear a good old brother/sister heart to heart. He might have only caught a minute of it but it was enough to hear that Arthur had been lying with him and holding him and  _ kissing _ him. And then Arthur had said he’d  _ liked _ him- but then rejected him? ****  
** **

The more Emrys thought of it, the more his head hurt. He could feel a cluster headache starting somewhere to the top-rear of his left eye socket and he dug the heel of his hand into his eye in an attempt to squeeze out the pain, the pressure and the tantalisingly awful thoughts of what-ifs and if-onlys. ****  
** **

He was being an idiot. ****  
** **

Of course Arthur didn’t like him, he was drunk. He might be a good-mannered drunk but he was drunk nonetheless and obviously not in his right mind. He obviously didn’t like Emrys that way at all. ****  
** **

_ But that didn’t mean it didn’t feel right to be in his arms. _ ****  
** **

He ran his hands through his hair and pulled slightly, hoping that the pain would distract him. Hoping that by ripping out some of his hair, he might rip out the part of his brain that makes him feel stupid things for people.  ****  
** **

Because that’s what it was. He might not have realised it until this morning, but he liked Arthur. He wanted to take Arthur’s hands in his and tell him ‘I like you too and thank you for stepping in last night and bringing me home and showing me some affection and for wearing than damn suit because  _ hell’,  _ but Arthur didn’t let him. He chose to push him away. ****  
** **

And it was the right thing to do, because Arthur was his teacher.  ****  
** **

So then why did it hurt so much?

 

* * *

 

Emrys found himself on a bench by the riverside, directly opposite Durham Cathedral. He hated this city, but he considered for a moment that if he had to move here under other pretenses, he may have been able to enjoy the scenery. Durham definitely got the finer end of the River Wear.

The early morning light was reflected on the rippled of the slow moving current before him, and it moved at a gentle andante, which was unusually slow for water. It was mesmerising- and he found himself pressing his fingers into his thighs, hitting imaginary keys and hearing music surround him.

He’d do anything for a piano right about now. Either that or a cigarette. Instead, he had only his thoughts to keep him company. He should be riled up or upset or scared because of the whole situation with his attacker, but he just wasn’t. He almost didn’t care.

Because he thought for a second that he  _ had  _ someone, and then not a second later he was taken away.

He knew that it was what he needed- he craved attention. Not in a bad ‘I want to be popular’ way, but in more of a ‘No one actually loves me’ kind of way. He almost laughed at the thought of how sorry he was feeling for himself. He could usually build cast iron walls around that part of his brain so that even he wouldn’t have to experience those emotions, but Will always broke those down.

And now, so did Arthur.

He wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Of course, Arthur is attractive (you’re talking a good 11/10 on the would bang scale), but there was more to it. He didn’t understand when it started happening, but there was something between he and Arthur. Like an electricity. Like a current. It was amibile here and triste the next, with varying dynamics and overwhelming emotion and a part of him hoped Arthur felt it too, but part of him wanted to run as far as he could because being able to feel that connection would kill him. The way Will was killing him.

His Will. His childhood love, his best friend through everything, and the only person who would know how to help Merlin with this situation. 

The sound of the city began to pick up around him, and the music of the river began to fade like the motion of a calando at the end of a song. 

It was time to go home.

 

The journey back didn’t seem to take long at all, and honestly it was a miracle Emrys even  _ got _ home because he hadn’t paid attention to where he was going or what he was doing. His head was too full of Arthur’s arms around him and Arthur’s aftershave and Arthur’s look of concern when he came to his rescue.

Emrys really wanted to believe that Arthur didn’t care. He wanted to believe he would do the same for anyone, because maybe he was just nice like that; but he knew in the back of his mind that no one had ever looked at him the way Arthur does.

He got to the front door and reached to get his keys from his coat.

_ Fuck _

His coat was that somewhere either in the centre of Durham or some other lucky sod’s hands. He leaned forward and let his forehead hit off the window pane of the front door, pulling it back and repeating the action several times until there was a null ache at the forefront of his brow. 

Then suddenly he was falling forwards into the passageway. He pushed his hands out in front of himself just in time to be able to prevent his face from slapping of the carpeted floor. Confusion struck him for the slightest moment.

“Well, at least we know where you are now” his Mother spat from somewhere above him. “He’s here!” she shouted.

He scrambled to his feet and looked around to see his Mother leaning against the sitting room door. It wasn’t often she wore a stern face, but Emrys couldn’t help but gulp at the sight before him.

He made to speak but then Gwen was quite literally  _ on top _ of him. She had leapt down the stairs and embraced him so tightly he thought his diaphragm may never function again.

“Oh God, Em, I’m sorry but I had to tell your Mam, I had no idea where the hell you were. I couldn’t exactly go home at this time on my own and we tried calling you so many times and we were so worried and you left your coat so you didn’t have any money or keys and we-”

Merlin interrupted Gwen’s tearful hysteria. “You have my coat?”

Then there was seconds silence, and as Gwen pulled her head back from their embrace, her eyes turned to Hunith who had turned a shade of horrifying he hadn’t seen since Jordan up the street from them broke Will’s nose in their first year of Secondary.

When she spoke, it wasn’t a shout. He would have preferred a shout. He would have preferred his Mother’s indifferent behaviour; as was the common behaviour as of late. But, instead of any of that, it came out as a hiss. It was authoritative, betrayed and full of motherly emotion that Emrys nearly keeled over from the weight of it on his guilt.

“You mean to tell me, Merlin Emrys Smith, that you spent the entire night out of this house without your belongings, without any sense to try and contact us, with some lad you met in the club, and not only that but you left Gwen on her own in the centre of a busy city full of drunken people like yourself, and y-”

“He wasn’t drunk, I already told you. He barely touched-”

“You would do well not to interrupt me Guinevere” Hunith spat and Gwen snapped her mouth shut immediately, her eyes falling on Emrys’ were full of apology. Hunith turned back to face Emrys and approached him until she was close enough to breathe his air. She might be almost a foot shorter than him but she was still terrifying. She raised a threatening finger at his face. “You will apologise to Gwen and explain to her what exactly happened-” Hunith shot a glare at Gwen who was about to interrupt again but then thought better of it. “But only after I take her home and she gets some sleep. The poor girl has been awake all night with worry. Come on Gwen”

And with that, Hunith shot him a final look of something between betrayal and disgust, before grabbing her car keys from the wall hanger and pushing past him to head out through the front door. 

Emrys just stood at the bottom of the stairs unmoving. His Mother hadn’t shown any anger like that in a long time. Not at him anyway. Come to think of it, she hadn’t shown  _ any _ emotion towards him in a long time. Emrys stared at the space his Mother had just vacated, and Gwen moved around so that she was just-say in his line of sight.

“I really am sorry Em, I was so worried. I tried to contact you and when that lad dragged you out, you looked so dazed and I thought he’d done something to you.”

For a second Emrys considered telling Gwen what had happened, but she might tell his Mother and that could never be allowed to happen.  _ Never. _ Instead, he turned away and began to drag himself up the stairs.

“I’ll see you later Gwen. I’ll ring when I’ve had a bath and some food and stuff”  He didn’t look back or loiter around long enough for Gwen to respond. Instead, he threw himself face-first onto his bed and groaned. 

He really hoped he was going to be speaking to the Will he needed.

 

* * *

 

Emrys closed the door behind him and slumped back against it. It really was going to be difficult to ignore Arthur. He couldn’t just not turn up at his classes, otherwise he’d be kicked off the course and then both his Mother and Gaius would throttle him. While he was in the bath, he’d thought about trying to talk things through with Arthur, and to see if they could either try and forget what happened entirely or maybe just try to be friends. The last thing he wanted was for his lessons to be majorly awkward.

He knew Will was the only person who he could trust with all of this information. Maybe he’d have went to Gwen if she hadn’t decided to try and involve his Mam in his whereabouts last night; that was something that he wouldn’t be able to overlook for some time.

He trailed to his wardrobe, letting his towel fall to the floor somewhere along the way. He wouldn’t pick it up; he hadn’t tidied his room in a very long time. He only really slept and dressed in here and he spent the rest of the time out of the house or in his cabin at the back of the garden. Really, he’d had more than enough time to do something to the room to make it more homely- but that wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t his home and he didn’t want it to be. So, the room currently consisted of four Magnolia walls, a cheap beechwood wardrobe and chest of draws, a single wooden bed (which served as a friendly reminder of how lonely he was), and a few boxes that he would never unpack.

He reached into the top shelf of the wardrobe, pulling out a soft, white t-shirt and a pair of grey joggers. He considered putting on boxers but he really couldn’t be bothered- he just needed to speak to Will. 

He sat back on his bed cross-legged once dressed and positioned his phone so it was stood up against the edge of a file found inside one of the boxes.

 

_ Call to Will _ _   
_ _ (connecting) _

 

He really hated facetiming but it’s what Will seemed to prefer, and right now he needed Will to be as nice as he could be. He’d have to be careful how to phrase things and what to speak of. Yes. Oh, and he’d have to talk about Will before he spoke about himself. Yes, that would definitely put him in the right mood.

 

_ Call to Will _

_ (ringing) _

 

Oh and he should compliment him. Yes- complimenting him always brought out the Will that Emrys had missed so much.

 

“Hey, Merls!”

Emrys looked up from where he had been staring at the patch of blanket below the phone to see Will sat just like him, cross-legged against his pillows. Only he was topless.

“Uhm, hi” he mumbled, and he couldn’t help the shy smirk that curled on his lips. After all, seeing Will topless made him think of all the times when they had-

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Will said in a teasing tone, his expression clearly stating that he knew  _ exactly _ what Emrys was thinking.

“I was just ringing because I missed you,” Emrys lied. He was a good liar. Time to throw in the compliments. “And I’m glad I chose now to ring, you always did look better without a shirt” he said matter-of-factly. This time it wasn’t a lie.

“Is that so?” Will replied, leaning forwards slightly so that the top of his head was cut out of the image. “I could say the same for you, Merls. It’s a shame you’re dressed. You were always a lot easier on the eyes when you were half naked,” he leaned his head towards the camera and squinted as though to see more of Emrys. Emrys responded in kind and pulled the file and his phone further forward. “And with wet hair as well? Yeah, that’s a look I can live with.”

Will raised his eyebrow in a challenging manner, and Emrys just sighed and laughed before removing his own shirt. At least this was his Will. 

“Happy now?” he said, trying to smooth his hair from where it was sticking up after pulling off his t-shirt.

“Nonononono, don’t touch your hair, Merls. All adds to the image”

Emrys laughed and then they spoke of when they were younger. Of the times when Will used to try pulling wheelies on his bike and how the two of them used to always fight over who used the purple plastic chair when they had picnic lunches in the garden. Of the times when Will’s Mam used to give them a homemade cupcake each and how they used to finger-feed them to each to each other, and when they tried to catch crickets in the long grass next to the bike track and Emrys fell into muddy puddle face first. 

Then they spoke of the times when they were older and when their fingers used to brush in the school corridor, and how they’d secretly hold hands under the dinner table. Of the times when Will would brush Emrys’ hair out of his eyes when he was upset, or when Emrys let Will fall asleep with his head in his lap after his Mother had died.

They didn’t speak about the way Will’s Father had taken ill after losing his wife, and how he literally died of a broken heart. They didn’t speak of the way Hunith became void of all emotion after Balinor’s departure. However, there was still a certain sadness to the phone call. A pained expression shared when they skipped  _ that _ time period in their reminiscent conversation.

They wouldn’t speak of it. They never did.

“So are you going to tell me who’s bloodied up your face?” Will asked after a brief silence. Honestly, Emrys had totally forgotten about the cut on his eyebrow and his lip.  _ The lip Arthur brushed him thumb over _ .

“Er yeah, actually I wanted to talk to you about something,” Emrys replied, and watched as Will’s eyebrow rose in suspicion. He remained silent and raised a hand so Emrys would continue. “Well, er, last night me and Gwen went out. I didn’t even drink because I just wasn’t feeling it, you know? But we were in a club and I went out for a tab and well er…” There was going to be no easy way to phrase this without Will completely flipping his shit, so Emrys figure he’d just be blunt and say it like it was. “Er, yeah. This slimy looking posh bloke attacked me and er, tried to chat me up and I fought against it but he was pretty strong and he undid my shirt and jeans and-”

Emrys stopped talking completely when he noticed Will’s eyes go completely vacant for a second, before his face changed colour entirely.

“The fucking bastard! And what have the police said? You’ve rang the police haven’t you? Tell me you’ve rang the fucking police, Merls- don’t give me that look! Why haven’t you fucking rang them, Christ Sake!” Emrys’ expression was seeping guilt as he watched Will run his hands through his hair in visible worry. “Emrys I can’t fucking protect you from Glasgow! You need to be able to look after yourself, how the hell did you even get yourself out of that situation?!” 

“Well, that’s why I can’t ring the police” Emrys replied shyly and looked down at his hands. “I actually got saved by someone I know and well, he shouldn’t have because he’s er…” Emrys paused, seemingly unable to spit the words out. Why was it harder to talk about Arthur than it was to talk about being almost sexually assaulted?

“Spit it out, Merls.” Will said, still seething with fury.

“Okay, so you remember that lecturer I was telling you about before? The fit one? He basically knocked the guy out and then he took me back to his house because he was worried about me and we may or may not have fallen asleep cuddling and he said he liked me, Will, and we had an argument- well, no. I had a bit of a hissy fit because he knew the guy and stuff I and stormed out and came home but I can’t ring the police because he’ll get the fucking sack or something but I thought I’d let you know because you’re my best friend and stuff and yeah…”

There was a long silence while Emrys watched Will open his mouth and close it again. The his face changed from anger to… something else, and then something else again.

“Where did you say you were drinking?” Will eventually asked in a strained tone. That was the last thing Emrys expected him to ask.

“Erm, Klute. Why?” he asked. He couldn’t see how this information could be relevant, yet Will managed to turn even more red in the face than he was before.

“So, you’re telling me,” Will asked, his voice low and his body visibly shaking with anger. Emrys gulped. “that your  _ teacher _ was drinking in a nightclub specifically for students, where a man he  _ knew _ attacked you, and then he took you home and  _ comforted  _ you?”

Then things started to piece together in Emrys’ mind and for once, he understood how bad this sounded.

“He isn’t like that Will, it isn’t what you think-”

“Don’t tell me you’re that fucking stupid, Merlin! He set this whole thing up so he could take you home! He’s a fucking pervert! He’ll be fucking lucky if I don’t come up there and- actually, fuck it. I’m coming home, I hate this course anyway and I can’t look after you from here. I’m coming home, and I’ll fucking ring the police and kick the fucking shit out of this Ar-”

“Will.” Emrys interrupted Will’s shouting with a low voice, barely a whisper- but Will heard. “You aren’t coming back.” he said, and he couldn’t believe he was saying it. “You can’t because… because I don’t want you to” 

Will looked like he’d been slapped in the face, then his tone and demeanor changed completely.

“But Merls, you’re my everything. I can’t bare to see you get hurt and your teacher is the last-”

“Will, I do not want you here and I am  _ not _ your everything. I never have been and I’m so  _ stupid _ for not seeing it before.” Emrys said, his voice breaking. These were the words that he knew would kill him. The feelings he knew would tear him apart from the inside. He watched as WIll’s eyes widened and his shoulders tensed up.

“You like him, don’t you?” he asked, his voice completely void of any emotion.

“I do” Emrys answered, and he watched as a single tear rolled down Will’s cheek.

“Merlin. I can’t let you- you don’t understand.. I lo-”

“No.” said Merlin. “No, you don’t get to say that to me now.” he shouted, a lump forming in his throat and his own eyes filling with tears. He reached forward and hung up the call, and he didn’t even think before opening his emails.

 

_ To: <arthur.pendragon@durham.ac.uk> _

_ Subject: Tutorial _

 

_ Hi Arthur, _ _   
_ _ I was wondering if it’d be possible to meet with you today regarding the content of our most recent lesson. _

_ Regards, _ _   
_ _ Emrys _

 

Obviously he didn’t want to talk about the lesson at all, but what else could he say? Before he could even dwell on it any longer, his phone buzzed.

 

_ From: <arthur.pendragon@durham.ac.uk> _

_ Subject: Re: Tutorial _

 

_ Hi Emrys, _ _   
_ _ It’s good to hear from you. I have no lessons today but I will be on campus for the next hour if you can make it in that time? _

_ Kind Regards, _ __   
Arthur Pendragon   
Teacher of Music

 

He replied with a quick ‘I’ll be there in about half an hour’, before hurriedly pulling on his white converse and ringing a taxi. He didn’t even care that he looked like shit. He needed to talk to Arthur.


	10. Clouded Mind (E)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning:
> 
> Self harm (not severe)

The weather had turned rather chilly when he arrived at the University gates. He’d left with such haste that he had forgotten his jacket (and everything inside of it). He loitered around the entrance until a student came out and lit a cigarette so he could try and pinch one from her.

“Honestly, thank you” he said after he’d lit it up and took a long drag. She walked away without engaging in further conversation but Emrys preferred it that way. He was that desperate to talk about how fucking awful he felt about everything that he was scared to speak to anyone that wasn’t Arthur for fear of spilling his heart out and probably scaring the wits out of someone. Of course, talking to Arthur wasn’t going to be easy but he _had_ to tell someone. Will was the only person he could talk to but, really, he wasn’t. It was times like this that Emrys hated himself. As a light rain began to fall around him, _(typical)_ , he considered his relationship with Will. He loved his best friend, he really did; and he knew Will loved him back. He _knew._

Why couldn’t they have just gotten together. Why couldn’t things have stayed the way they were? Holding hands when they were kids, sharing secret kisses under the trees on the back field, having tickle matches that ended with snuggles on the sofa when his Mam wasn’t home… At what point did things become awkward for Will?

 _Oh yeah,_ when Emrys told him he loved him. 

Was Will afraid of the idea of love? Was he afraid people would know he was bisexual? After all, he had only slept with othe-

 _“Oh God”_ Emrys whispered. Will wasn’t attracted to men. He had never, _ever,_ had any partners; romantic or sexual, that weren’t female. Emrys had been the only one. Of course, it all made sense now. He had experimented with Emrys, but once he knew Emrys was on love with him he didn’t want to upset his best friend.

Oh, Will was actually trying to protect him, because Will _did_ love him… just not the way Emrys wanted him to.

Emrys went to reach for his phone, suddenly becoming very aware of his lack of jacket and the fact that he was soaked through. His now slightly see-through white t-shirt was stuck to his skin and his joggers had darkened a few shades; but he didn’t really care because he was an idiot. How did he not see that Will was just trying to protect him? How did he not see that Will was trying not to let him down? He turned up his left wrist to look at the lone single scar that remained there.

Will had stopped him doing anything stupid like that again. Will had been the one to make him better. Will was always the one, and now he’d pushed him away. Emrys had been treating him _awfully_ since he left. 

He didn’t _deserve_ Will. 

He took a final drag of his cigarette, letting the warm fumes fill his lungs whilst his goosebumps prickled under the cool misty rain. He clenched his left fist and with his right hand, brought the cigarette out from his mouth, and pushed the burning end right into the centre of the scar on his wrist. It didn’t hurt at first- it almost felt cold. Almost like a numbing sensation. A few seconds passed and he drew his eyes shut and the cold turned into a searing heat. He gasped and dropped the cigarette butt to the floor before staring at the now fresh red circle on his arm.

He’d gotten himself distracted. He had to speak to Arthur.

Emrys jogged up to the doors of the Performing Arts building before pushing his way inside and heading towards Arthur’s office. He didn’t even know what time it was because he’d left his sodding phone in the house- but he was _soaking_ , so he made a detour to the bathroom. 

He couldn’t quite believe he was doing this, but he would _not_ face anyone with his hair plastered to his face. He had too much pride for that, and so he stuck his head under the hand dryer and stayed there until his hair lay in fluffy black curls on his head. _God_ , he forgot how ridiculous he actually looked without his usual sex-hair.

 

After leaving the toilets, he made his way through the strangely empty corridors and towards Arthur’s office. 

The only wooden door in the whole fucking building.

But when he pushed down the handle the door was locked. Even though he knew he’d look like a tit, he started shaking the door as if to try and force entry. For what reason he wasn’t sure; after all Arthur obviously wasn’t in there and wasn’t that the reason he was here? He let his forehead fall against the door before hitting it with both hands. 

“Fuck” he said, as though someone was actually there to hear him. But they weren’t.

As he slumped back through the corridors, he began to think about Arthur. This was becoming quite the problem. When he wasn’t thinking about Will, he was thinking about Arthur. When he wasn’t thinking about Arthur, he got himself into stupid situations which Arthur either found out about, or showed up for. His life was just Will and Arthur.

But it had once just been Will.

He was undecided whether or not it was a bad thing. _Well,_ it obviously was a bad thing to be attracted to his teacher, but didn’t Arthur confess to liking him back? And didn’t Arthur make a point of telling Emrys he was only 23? There was only three years between them- and maybe that’s what Emrys needed. Someone more mature, more grown-up. Someone who knew how to look after themselves without going out on the piss every other night and snogging some random bird just like Will had always done. Someone he could cuddle, and they had cuddled, hadn’t they? And Arthur kissed his hair…

Arthur _kissed_ him.

When he found himself sat at the C. Bechstein grand piano in the performance hall, he wondered when he had changed his path. Arthur hadn’t been there so he was going to go home. He was walking towards the exit, so when exactly did he change path?

Either way, here he was. The piano lid was slid up and the keys were staring at him, inviting him. They were desperate to be touched.

Yet, when he ran his hands from left to right up the piano, he stumbled. He interrupted his simple E major arpeggio with an accidental slip of the hand. He stopped, frustrated and instead played his way through various different minor keys- then it happened again. He played the wrong note.

Emrys never fucked up on the piano.

He placed his hands behind his neck and dug his fingers into the muscle there to try and alleviate some pressure. 

Then he tried again. He closed his eyes and inhaled- thinking of Will. Yes, his beautiful Will. The movements came easily now, and the notes filled the air around him like a warm hug. The opening melody of War Song by Phamie Gow were beautiful, happy, mellow - yet there was something to them. Something Emrys felt deep in his stomach, his soul. As his hands sped through the music, over the keys, he thought of the beautiful boy whose young teenaged face he’d wake up to. The boy who had been watching him sleep, and who would lean forward and place a gentle kiss on his nose every morning that they woke together.

The same boy who would run his thumb across Emrys’ when they held hands, and who would lean into Emrys’ touch whenever they were close together. The same boy that smiled that _achingly stunning_ smile when Emrys was moved to his tutor class, and whose hand lay on Emrys’ thigh under the table the entire morning. The same boy who used to love running his fingers through Emrys’ hair, always complimenting him on the softness of it. Always saying how he wanted to kiss it.

But _Arthur_ kissed it.

His hand slipped again, flattening two of the notes under his left hand- and what was worse was that he couldn’t recover. He had lost his place- forgotten the song, forgotten the fucking key. He slammed his balled up fists against the keys before forcing the lid down and choking out a loud sob. 

And he sat and cried into his hands.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, eyes streaming and shoulders shaking with each agonising sob that broke from him, and he wasn’t sure how long Arthur had been there. But he was always there wasn’t he?

“Look at me, Emrys” came his teacher’s gentle voice from next to him, and as Arthur pulled his hand away from his eyes, Emrys looked at him- and Arthur had tears in his eyes too. After taking Emrys’ hand between two of his own, Arthur gave him a pleading look; and that was what it was -he wanted Emrys to tell him, but without having to ask.

Another sob broke from his mouth before he could stifle it. Had all of his sobs echoed in the hall that way? He didn’t care.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he cried, rushing to get the words out between each whimper. “When he isn’t in my head you are, and I want you to get out but at the same time I can’t get enough of you but I barely know you and you’re my- my _teacher_ and I- I-” he let out a high-pitched cry and felt Arthur’s head drop to his hand, still held between his teacher’s.

“We can’t have this conversation here, Emrys. We need to go somewhere they won’t hear us.” he said quietly but it was almost a beg. Emrys could hear the desperateness in his voice. _Arthur cared._

Emrys just nodded and followed Arthur as he let go of his hand and walked ahead of him out the hall, and out of the building.

 

They walked for some time, side by side, without saying a single word. The rain had turned into a fine, misty drizzle; and somewhere towards the right of them, the sun was trying to break through the clouds; leaving a gentle yellow haze in the air.

Emrys wasn’t sure at which point he stepped in front of Arthur, but he had somehow led them back to the spot where he had been sat this morning after leaving Arthur’s house. The river was moving quicker now; and Emrys watched the ripples as they chased after each other on the surface. He was cold now. His wet clothes were still stuck to his body, and he had goosebumps all over every bit of naked skin. 

They had sat on the bench for a while before Arthur spoke.

“Sorry” he said, and it was barely more than a whisper. Honestly, Emrys could think of half a dozen things his teacher could want to apologise for, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to be angry anymore. Not at Arthur.

“What for?” he replied, his voice hoarse from all the previous crying. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear Arthur apologise. A part of him hated Arthur for coming into his life and making such an impact, but another part of him just relished in knowing that the man cared; and that _finally_ he had someone who was genuinely there for him. 

“For messing up your head, I guess. No person has ever prevented me from being able to play- so I must have really messed up. Emrys, I’m sorry for last night- and I don’t just mean Cenred. I shouldn’t have taken you to my house and I certainly shouldn’t have lay with you. I have broken so many rules and used my role as your teacher to take advan-”

“And yet, if you hadn’t done those things,” Emrys interrupted “what would have happened to me?” he asked. Emrys turned to look at Arthur now, only to find the blonde haired man beside him looking deep into his eyes, his pupils wide and dark. When Arthur didn’t answer, Emrys turned back to the river and continued, “I am not angry at you Arthur, not for anything. I was surprised, is all. I’m not- I haven’t….” He wanted to tell Arthur that he hadn’t heard someone say anything like that to him other than Will, and then the guilt took him again. Will had only ever wanted to protect him and Emrys had pushed him away. He couldn’t push Arthur away too.

He let his eyes wander to the bench between them, where Arthur’s hand gripped the edge of the seat. Emrys turned back around to face the man beside him, and he studied the side of his face as it stared at the running water. The tattoos, the hair, the clothes - yes, they were everything that Emrys liked- but there was more. This man truly was _beautiful._ The way his eyes seemed to search everything he looked at, looking for more than what was to be seen. The way his nostrils flared slightly when he inhaled a deep, long breath, and the way his chiselled jaw muscles moved when he clenched his teeth together. 

In an ideal world, Emrys wouldn’t mind looking at this man every day, and being with him, being able to call him _his._ But this wasn’t an ideal world, and Emrys was in love with Will. This wasn’t an ideal world at all, because he could never have Will.

He needed a way to get the words out; to tell Arthur how he felt about him, but about Will too. And so beneath the clouds and the sun, in the misty rain, Emrys took a deep breath to steady himself, and reached his hand forward, stroking the back of Arthur’s. He then watched as Arthur scrunched his eyes shut, before exhaling and turning his hand over, allowing Emrys to entwine their fingers. And the _warmth_ , it was exactly what he needed. The heat from Arthur’s fingertips and palms flowed into Emrys’ veins, helping him to find the words.

“Arthur?” he said, and Arthur opened his eyes and looked at him; the unmistakable mask of pain on his face. “Listen, no one has ever treated me like you have and I’ve only known you three days. You drive me completely mad. I hated you, with a passion- but now… I just don’t know. You’re kind and you’re handsome and you’re _caring_ \- and to be quite honest your only flaw is that you’re a bit of a prat. I know it’s wrong, for both of us. You aren’t allowed and I certainly shouldn’t be telling you this but you have no idea how much I would like to see your face every day, and hold your hand every day… and just how much I’d like my life if you played a bigger part in it; and there’s almost no-one I’d like more than-”

“Almost…” Arthur interrupted, making to pull his hand away from Emrys’ but failing when Emrys tightened his grip. 

“Yes, almost” replied Emrys, a tone of defeat clear even in his whisper. _Here goes nothing._ “Look Arthur, I have a- well… I have a friend. He’s called Will. We grew up together. He was there for me through everything and then when my Dad- when my life hit a really dark time he was _there_ . He helped me through everything and I want to be with you Arthur, but I want to be with him more,” and before Arthur could speak, Emrys choked up a fresh sob and pulled his hand away from Arthur’s, leaping to his feet and pacing in front of the bench. “But I’m an _idiot._ I can’t even understand the situation I’m in because for a huge period of my life, Will was always _there._ He has been my everything, my first kiss, my first love- yet he never wanted to be with me. Not in a relationship… and now- now I _understand_ that it’s because he isn’t gay and he’s just trying to be a good friend. He doesn’t want to upset me but I don’t know how I’m supposed to continue without him here, without thinking that at some point we’ll be together. I love him, Arthur, I love him” He didn’t look at Arthur, instead choosing to run his hands through his hair, pulling at it and ripping it from the follicles. He didn’t want to let this all get the better of him but there was no other way. He’d already started, and so he’d have to finish. Someone had to know, and that someone was Arthur. His teacher, his friend. His…

“Arthur, I have grown up with nothing. My Dad left us and now my Mam is completely void of any emotion. She tore me away from my city, from my friends. I never wanted to study music, much less classical music- yet here I am because it’s where she put me. Will was the only thing that was ever a constant in my life. He helped me through every single thing there was, and now he’s a good 150 miles away and he isn’t here to help me. He isn’t here to hold my hand through the shit days and he isn’t here to make this any easier for me. He isn’t here to tell me to stop liking my teacher, and to help me through it. He isn’t here and all I want is him. I need him Arthur, I _need_ him. My own parents never cared, and he is the only one. I have had nothing my whole life. Nothing- nothing other than him… but now there’s you and you’re right here. You’re right in front of me and I wanted to try but you pushed me away, but now you’re here again and you were holding my hand and I don’t know what you want- hell I don’t even know what I want, but what I do know is that if Will was here, he would know. He’d know what I’d want, and I think if he was here I’d know too. Arthur I- I am coming apart without him” he managed to gasp out the final words before completely breaking down, his sobs tearing through him, each one bringing a new wave of crippling pain, of fear, of rejection, of loneliness.

But he wasn’t alone, because even though Emrys had confessed that his heart belonged with another, Arthur was in front of him, his hands curling under Emrys’ arms and pulling him in. His hands reaching up his back to run his fingers through his student’s damp black hair. It was a warmth and a sense of belonging that he _needed_ right now, and Arthur was there to provide it. And as Emrys cried into the shoulder of Arthur’s burgundy, knit jumper; he felt Arthur’s breath against his ear as he spoke.

“Meet me back at my house in half an hour okay? It isn’t far from here, you’ll remember, and I’ll be there soon.” and then one of Arthur’s hands disappeared for a moment before finding Emrys’, and placing a warm metallic object in it. Then Emrys felt the kiss against the side of his head, and watched as Arthur walked back the way they came without turning back. Emrys watched Arthur until he was out of sight, then shifted the object in his hand so it rested between his fingers.

Arthur had given him his key.

 


	11. Risk (A)

He had been about to leave. Emrys was running late and Arthur had already waited ten minutes longer than he had wanted to. He was in the foyer when he had heard the music, and whether it made him look utterly pathetic or not, he ran.

Hell, he had only been shown the whereabouts of the performance hall once and he never had a damn clue how to get there, but he ran and he ran until he found himself at the door leading to the stalls at the right side of the hall. For a second, he almost turned around at the sight. Emrys would never… but then he started playing, and the world shifted beneath Arthur’s feet- just as it had when Emrys played in his office.

As he walked towards the stage, he found himself eternally grateful that Emrys’ back was turned to him. He watched as Emrys’ back swayed and curved in time with his left hand and he watched the way that his right hand attacked the keys with firm hits combined with gentle swipes of the fingertips. There was a beauty in the way Emrys played; a beauty Arthur was all to familiar with, because it made his legs unsteady and his mind elevate and his heart stutter. With every passing note, the music flowed in a dynamic array of colours and Arthur could feel himself being drawn not only to the sounds created by this painfully beautiful young man, but to Emrys himself.

He wasn’t gay.

But he wanted this young man in his life in one way or another, so he would support him as a teacher, and as a friend. There was nothing in the rule book about it being wrong to befriend students over the age of 19, and Emrys seemed exactly like the type of person Arthur could be close to.

A flattened third and fifth. That wasn’t intentional. Time almost stood still when Emrys’ left hand fell flat on a chord. In his head, Arthur calculated how he would manoeuvre out of such a mishap, but he was distracted by the music around him. It was staggered, unflowing- it was… _incorrect._

Arthur never made mistakes. _Ever._ The last time he remembered making a mistake on the piano was when he was in Secondary School- and that was ten years ago. He couldn’t even recall how it felt. But watching the man in front of him crumble was a good enough reminder. 

When he approached Emrys and dropped to crouch by his side, he realised just why he didn’t originally recognise his student. He was wearing a white short-sleeve t-shirt, a pair of grey jogger bottoms, and a pair of white, low-top converse. This was a far cry from Emrys’ usual goth/alternative/all black aesthetic- but it suited him just as well. He had obviously walked to the University because he was _soaking_ , and had he not been in a state of complete hysteria, then Arthur might have found the way his now almost-translucent white top clung to skin, and the way his unstyled hair lay in messy, fluffy curls atop his head rather attractive. 

“Look at me, Emrys” he had said, and when he pulled at Emrys hands, forcing his student to face him- Arthur noticed the tears pooled in his eyes that made them glisten like frost on a cool winter morning, and the way he had his lower lip curled so that he could toy with the stud between his teeth… and the way his stubble lay around his face, making him look a lot less like a student, and more like a- a man; and Arthur’s heart stopped. 

In that moment, he knew he felt something. It wasn’t attraction, because it wasn’t gay, but he felt a- a _connection._ A magical, musical and utterly painful connection to this beautiful, tragic young man.

He had questioned whether or not this was a good idea the whole way here; and now that Emrys was stood before him, pouring his heart out and tearing at his hair, he still wasn’t sure. His student was speaking at a hundred miles-per-hour and he was somewhere between crying, shouting and incoherent speech.

Arthur listened. For now it was all he could do because his mind was still recovering from the fact that Emrys had invited him to hold his hand, and as much as he fought the urge, Arthur allowed his fingers to be entwined with his student’s. It was wrong- but it was _everything._ That cold, smooth skin had sent a current up his arm like what happened when he played his piano. It was almost as though his connection with Emrys was _nearly_ the same as that of his own with his music. _Nearly-_ for nothing was stronger than the connection between Arthur and music. _Nothing._

And here stood the reason for the confusion in his mind- the young boy who was inflicting painful words upon himself and bringing up his torturous past, his doubts, his insecurities- and the forefront of all the issued seemed to be the man he was in love with. Will. 

Upon hearing the words, that Emrys had wanted to try and have some sort of- whatever he wanted- with Arthur; Arthur began to doubt ever turning him away. How could he have done such a thing? How could he be so blind as to not realise that this picture of beauty, of musical grace wanted _more_ with him?

Ah, but he had realised, and there were two reasons he pushed him away. A) Emrys was his student. B) Arthur wasn’t gay.

Yet when Emrys completely shattered and the sobs tore from his body, Arthur found himself in front of him. They were the same height, roughly- yet the way Emrys hunched over with grief made him seem small. So, when Arthur wound his arms under his student’s and around his cold, damp back, Emrys’ head fell naturally against his chest. It was all too much and not enough and Arthur just wanted him to be okay. He wanted him to be okay because of _Arthur._ So as he wound his fingers through Emrys’ hair he made his decision. It was a risk, but right now Emrys’ happiness was more important.

They stayed that way for who knew how long- a few more seconds, a minute- but once Emrys had stopped crying into Arthur’s jumper, he lifted his head slightly, and Arthur whispered to him, telling him where to go.

  


The drive home took longer than it should have and now that Arthur was stood in front of his own front door, he was- for want of a better term- absolutely shitting himself. He had been in a bit of a daze today. Emrys storming out of his house felt like it had happened days ago, but it had happened this very morning- and so much had happened since then. And now… Emrys would be waiting for him inside.

He checked his reflection in the door window and noticed that the wet patch on his shoulder from his student’s tears had dried up. The way his eyes were more sunken than normal also told him that he looked like he hadn’t slept in an entire week.

He was procrastinating. This was his own house for goodness sake. “Come on, Arthur. _Come on”_ he found himself mumbling; and he half expected to hear the sounds of his piano drifting through the house. Instead, he was greeted with silence and the faint smell of Emrys’ aftershave.

Arthur wasn’t exactly sure why he felt the way he did. There was something about knowing Emrys was in his house that made him feel anxious and excited and- and _comfortable_. And as he shook off his denim jacket and tossed his keys on the dresser, he prepared to face whatever the night would hold.

He walked through to the sitting room and the sight that met his eyes absolutely melted his heart. Emrys lay on his side on the sofa, his knees pushed to his chest with his arms loosely holding them in place. As Arthur perched on the sofa next to him, he stroked back his student’s fluffy hair and gazed down at his closed eyes. They were red and puffy, and Arthur could see that the cushion under Emrys’ head was slightly darker in colour from where his tears had puddled beneath the side of his face. He had cried himself to sleep.

Arthur could feel his heart breaking in his own chest and he couldn’t bare to imagine what Emrys was feeling. He kept his left hand in Emrys’ hair for some time, stroking his thumb back and forth across the top of his ear. Arthur couldn’t and wouldn’t wake him up - it was obvious that Emrys was in a stressed state of mind. Arthur just had to busy himself and then when Emrys was to awaken, he’d send him home. They could discuss things another time. It took a few seconds of determination to pull his hand away from Emrys, and before he knew exactly what he was doing, he was at his piano. He returned to marking work from the Tuesday morning lesson which took him just over two hours- and Emrys was still asleep.

So he decided to play instead. His hands were warmed up and itching to get away from playing a million renditions of _Time of my Life_ , and so after allowing his hands to roam up and down the keys to get his bearings - he found himself playing the opening chords to _Nuvole Bianche_ . Hearing of Emrys’ past had made him think of his own, and as he played through the opening melody, he remembered coming home from University to his Dad playing this song at the piano. When he played the repetitions, his heart seemed to leap in time with the music when he remembered sitting beside his Father on the piano stool and playing the right hand melody. They had always done this when Arthur was a young boy and they played _Chopsticks_ or _Fur Elise_ together-  and as Arthur stretched out his hands and worked his fingers on the keys beneath him, he wished for nothing more than to have his Dad play with him once more. He wanted to feel the welcoming warmth against his shoulder, to feel the persistent nudging of elbows as they worked harmoniously to play around each other’s hands- and as the colourful and melodious tones pierced the air in crescendo, he closed his eyes and let himself believe, even if just for a second, that Uther was there with him, beside him… guiding him.

His fingers and hands drifted effortlessly up and down; caressing the keys with the care one would use to handle a kitten, just like his Father had taught him, and as his right foot lifted on and off the sustain, he could feel his heart expanding and breaking with each drawn out bass note. He allowed himself to be fully submerged in the song that he hadn’t played since the death of his Father, and he knew it better than he knew himself. His right hand bounced animatedly over the keys, adding a personality to the song that his Father would have once provided- and ever his Father’s son, Arthur had learned to put a piece of himself into the music. He learned to become one with it, to learn to love it. Just as he had loved his Dad.

He brought the song back down into a decrescendo, slowing the pace ever so slightly so as to create that calming, yet despairing end to the song that brought him home into his Father’s arms once more- just for a slight moment. And then when he felt the still air of the cold room around him and listened to the quiet nothingness, he placed the lid back down on the piano, brought his hands to the back of his neck, lowered his head and cried silently to himself. It wouldn’t do to get too carried away, not with Emrys here- but he could allow himself a minute to remember his Dad. How proud he would have been of Arthur’s decisions… he always was.

But how would he have felt about this? About Arthur crying at his piano, at Arthur intentionally humiliating a student in front of the class, at Arthur drinking at a _student_ bar… At Arthur sitting at home with a student asleep on his couch.

No, he couldn’t think like this. He couldn’t feel sorry for himself, not when Emrys was in some sort of horrible confusing situation. After forcing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and forcing back his tears, Arthur slowly and quietly made his way to his closet to grab a towel. He’d have a hot shower to allow himself to relax.

Even though he was upstairs, he tried his best to be quiet - tip-toeing around the rooms and making sure that when he took off his shoes, he placed them on the floor gently afterwards. He’d been so quiet, that when he turned the shower dial, the water spray seemed to deafen him. Inwardly, he cursed himself as he decided to lock his bathroom door, then unlock it, then lock it again. _Get your shit together_ , he thought as he stepped into the bathtub and into the blissful heat of the water. His muscles instantly relaxed, and he closed his eyes, tipping back his head and leaning it from one side to the other.

He went through the usual motions of washing his hair, then his body; and just as he was rinsing off the shower foam from his chest, he heard the soft, mellifluous tinkling of his own piano. He immediately turned the shower dial so that the water stopped, and he stood still in the bath- too scared to move incase he missed a single note. It was the same pattern of 4 notes, played in a descending pattern over basic chords. Arthur swore he knew this song, but from where…

 

_“The ice is really cold”_

 

Arthur thanked the heavens that the old lady who had lived here previous had asked someone to fit assistance bars in the shower, because fuck if that wasn’t enough to make his knees go weak.

 

 _“The street light’s really old_ _  
_ _A child’s all alone_   
As she melts into her own”

 

He took great care when he stepped out of the bath, and shuffled ever so quietly to the bedroom where he threw on a soft, powder blue tee and some black skinny jeans.

 

 _“And slowly fades away,  
_ _Into a river full of shame,  
_ _But at least numb to the pain,_  
Can you see it?”

 

Arthur crept along the landing way after towel-drying his hair, and made his way down the stairs. The lord was on his side tonight, because not a single step creaked and when he made it to the bottom…

 

 _“Can you feel the shallow wave,  
_ _From a needle to the grave,  
_ _From her hell to far away,_  
You’re my only”

 

Arthur gasped and his hand instantly fell to his left hip, on which lay a tattoo of the astronaut on the moon, and he felt his entire body enter a state of strange euphoria. Although they were considered an average band, Angels and Airwaves had always been a favourite of his - and this- it sounded… _Christ, Emrys was fucking singing._

 

 _“You’re so sad, my Valentine,  
_ _On your journey to the light._  
But first, straight to the fire”

 

Arthur moved to the doorway and if ever there was a time he was made to choose what the last thing he ever wanted to hear would be, it would be Emrys’ voice and that piano. _His piano._ Emrys sat with this eyes shut, body relaxed and head back- and just like that, a life flashed before Arthur’s eyes. A life in which Emrys played his piano and fell asleep on his sofa and made himself tea and had his own space in Arthur’s closet and his own toothbrush in his bathroom and-

No. It was a life Arthur couldn’t have. Emrys was his student. Emrys was a _boy._

 

 _“And we are  
_ _All that we are  
_ _Holding on_  
Until we fall apart”

 

Then Emrys opened his eyes and looked at Arthur and suddenly Arthur was right in front of him- his feet had found their own path- and he looked into those dilated blue eyes below him and he knew, _he knew_. 

Once upon a time, there had been 3 things Arthur Pendragon had been certain of in life. 1- Yiruma was a genius, 2- He secretly liked the pain of getting tattoos, and 3- Morgana was both amazing and impossibly frightening.

But now, Arthur wasn’t sure of any of anything-

 

_“And we are…”_

 

-only that, in that moment - he was certain that he was falling for Merlin Emrys Smith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a musical chapter!
> 
> For Nuvole Bianche:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcihcYEOeic
> 
> and for Emrys' singing debut - All That We Are - Angels and Airwaves:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=orzrMKkbHhY


	12. Your Life and Mine (E)

When Emrys met those Cerulean blue eyes whilst singing, he felt something unlock inside of him. Only Will had heard him sing. _Well, that was if you didn’t include the half of the internet who saw the video,_ but even then, no one other than Will had heard him sing properly. Until now. Normally he’d get shy or embarrassed, but there was something about the way Arthur raced over to him with that _look_ on his face. No one had looked at him like that before.

Not even Will.

Arthur had been stood next to him now for a good minute at least - and when Emrys finally looked away from him to gently place the lid down on the immaculate Steinway and Sons piano, Arthur spoke.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, and Emrys couldn’t help but laugh at the seriousness of the question. That was right, he’d had a full on fucking breakdown in front of Arthur which he had to explain. Christ. 

“I’m twenty-years-old Arthur, I shouldn’t even _be_ sleeping during the day. Jesus,” and when he looked back at his lecturer, he was smiling back at him with the biggest shit eating grin Emrys had ever seen. His breath hitched in his throat as he soaked in the view of Arthur stood before him - hair damp and messy, a soft, blue cotton tee stretched taut across his broad chest which looked particularly pleasing with his black skinny jeans- and he was barefoot. Emrys had to fight the urge to bury his face in that fucking sexy tattooed neck and just inhale the smell. A freshly showered Arthur, giggling sweetly to himself, is a sight he could get used to. 

He stood from the piano and gave Arthur’s shoulder a playful nudge. “Come on then, I suppose I have some explaining to do” said Emrys, unable to stop his own little chuckle from sounding. He took Arthur’s hand and led him to the couch before Arthur stopped.

“Oh, er… do you want a drink or something? I have a few cans in the fridge… I mean we could-”

“Yeah, okay” replied Emrys, and suddenly things felt strange. Not in an uncomfortable, unpleasant way - but in a _this feels like an awkward first date_ kind of way. Not that Emrys would know, it’s not like he and Will ever went on one, and he certainly hadn’t bothered trying with anyone else.

When Arthur returned with two pint glasses and a slab of 12 cans of John Smiths, Emrys couldn’t help but scrunch up his face. “I suppose you could have worse taste” he mumbled as Arthur sat right next to him on the long 3 seater sofa. 

“Oh and what would you prefer? Fosters? Stella? Some cheap, horrible-”

“I’m more of a gin man, actually” Emrys replied before Arthur could list every cheap beer that people seemed partial to these days. Arthur leant sideways slightly, nudging into Emrys’ shoulder playfully.

“You’re such a _girl_ ” he laughed as he poured them each a pint - perfectly so that there wasn’t too much foam in the glass. Emrys scoffed before snorting out a laugh.

“Says Mister _‘_ fit hipster teacher’ who probably posts pictures of home made bread and bow ties to his instagram on a daily basis, you absolute Prat,” Emrys took his glass and drank a good half of his pint before the taste even registered in his mouth. Arthur spat his mouthful of drink back into his glass with laughter at the face Emrys pulled and the two of them laughed and laughed until Emrys’ ribs were aching and his head was giddy.

“Okay, okay. So where should I start?” he said to Arthur, finally coming around from his hysteria. Arthur had gone to the kitchen, coming back with a freshly rinsed glass, and as he poured himself a new glass - he sat a little further away on the sofa so that he could turn inwards, facing Emrys. He pondered over what to say for a while- and he took a drink before finally looking Emrys in the eyes.

“Well, I guess you were angry at me this morning. You had every right to be, I suppose. But then you came to the Uni upset over what you wanted or something… and you know- there was a mention of some guy named Will? My guess is that he’s your ex?”

Ah yes. Will. Just like that, it was as though someone had twisted a knife already buried in Emrys’ side. He wasn’t sure what he felt. He wasn’t sure if he hated Will or if he loved him. He just knew that he couldn’t carry on like this. Waiting for the boy he grew up with- the boy who showed him more tenderness and intimacy than anyone else ever had- the boy who turned him away. 

He was roused back into being by Arthur’s gentle hand on his shoulder and he hadn’t realised that there were silent tears creating a small path down his cheeks.

“Emrys, please tell me. I want to help”

Emrys just sighed before nodding. He could do this. He _would_ do this.

“Okay, so me and Will have known each other forever. We grew up together. And, well - to make a long story as short as I can, he was always there for me. He was the first person other than my Mam and Dad that I’d ever held hands with. He was my first kiss, my first- well. You get the point. Arthur, we were quite literally made for each other. He was my entire life, and I was sure I was his. But two years ago I asked him out. And well, I figured it was romantic, we’d been to the beach and-” Emrys stopped to catch himself as a fresh sob worked its way out of his throat, then Arthur’s hand was on the side of his neck, his thumb brushing over his jawbone with a gentle “shhh it’s okay, take your time”

Emrys nodded again and took another drink, pulling himself together. 

“I asked him and he just looked at me then ran away. But the worst thing was that things got more serious after that. We’d only ever kissed before then but we started messing around, you know? Sometimes I think that he might like me back, but other times… Arthur he is two different people. He’s my Will who is kind and caring and wants to take care of me and keep an eye on me and be here for me, but he’s also- he, he sleeps around with all the girls he wants but he said I can only have these things with him. He hates me being close to other lads. He hates the idea of me being happy and on the phone he- he asked me to cry to him and he _got off over it,_ and I just- I-”

“He what?” Arthur interrupted, and his voice wasn’t angry or shocked. It was disgusted. Emrys didn’t dare meet his eyes and instead took another long drink, finishing off his pint. “Emrys, that- that’s controlling and possessive behaviour. Christ, it’s emotional abuse.” Arthur had said, and Emrys stared at his own two feet- his converse still tied loosely around them. Will couldn’t be abusing him. Of course he wasn’t. Arthur just didn’t understand, he hadn’t been in that position before.

There was a shuffling next to him and Emrys turned to see that Arthur had come a little closer. “Look at me” he pleaded, and Emrys looked into those big blue eyes and as Arthur found his hand and entwined their fingers, he felt his muscles relax ever so slightly. “You deserve someone better. Someone who will treat you properly. Someone who will treat you like you deserve.”

Emrys just snorted in response and shook his head with a dry laugh. “Yeah well, no one is about to go tripping over their own two feet for a twenty-year-old with more baggage than fucking Heathrow.” He felt empty, and the only thing keeping him going was the circular movement of Arthur’s thumb over the heel of his own hand.

“Emrys, you’re incredible. You just don’t see what everyone else sees.” Emrys was about to respond with something arsey, but Arthur’s face softened and for a moment, Emrys could see conflict behind those eyes. “You don’t see what I see” Arthur finished, and suddenly Emrys’ mouth was incredibly dry, and he felt a mixture of nerves and adrenaline flood through him. He positioned his body so he was facing Arthur, legs crossed, and placed a brave hand just above Arthur’s knee. He heard as Arthur’s breath hitched in his throat - and there was something between them again. Like static energy. Like a Piacevole phrase transforming into something more meaningful, something more passionate and mysterious, and God, did Emrys want to hear that music, God, did he want to feel it.

Then Arthur stood up and stumbled backwards over the edge of the coffee table. “I’m gonna get some er, I’ll grab a menu or something” he blurted out as he rushed away into the kitchen. And then there Emrys was. In the same predicament as he was in before.

In an ideal world, Will wouldn’t stop him from having other opportunities. In an ideal world, Arthur wouldn’t be his teacher.

 

* * *

 

When Arthur returned, they talked about his upbringing. Emrys learned that his father owned some sort of classical radio station, as well as being Chancellor for two Universities. Arthur assured him, though, that Uther always made time for his children. There was a certain glow to Arthur’s face whenever he mentioned his father or his sister. His eyes would light up and and he’d become very animated- as though the love he shared with his family brought him to life. Emrys wished he could empathise. However, whenever Arthur spoke of his Father in the past tense, his smile wouldn’t reach his eyes; and even if it was just for a second, he looked a lot older than he was. 

“What about your friends then? Surely you have some- or are friends too cool for hipsters these days?” asked Emrys as he gulped down his sixth pint. Arthur threw a prawn cracker at him from across the sofa and Emrys was just grateful they had finished their food because when he kicked Arthur in the legs in retaliation, his plate fell face down on the floor.

“I swear, if that stains my floor…” Arthur grumbled, but the laugh that came afterwards betrayed his humour.

“Oooooh, what are you going to do?” replied Emrys, and he couldn’t remember having this much fun in _years._

“Tell me. _Mer_ lin,” Emrys winced at hearing his first name in Arthur’s voice. It wasn’t right, it sounded uncomfortable to his ears. “Do you know how to walk on your knees?”

He was grateful he hadn’t been eating of he would have choked. Christ, he knew Arthur never meant it _that_ way, but fuck if that didn’t go straight to his cock- and of _course,_ the alcohol was wearing down his barriers.

“I do actually. I’m quite good at it. Do you want to test that theory?” he asked, blinking his eyes innocently in Arthur’s direction. He’d only meant it as a joke of course (not like he wouldn’t say no to having Arthur ramming him into the coffee table), but Arthur’s eyes widened and he audibly gulped and put his unfinished pint back on the table.

“Err, yeah I do have a few friends.” Ah, changing the subject. Emrys considered this for a moment. It might just be the alcohol fuzzing up his mind, but he was certain that he and Arthur had been sharing the odd touch here and there. He was sure it had been intentional on Arthur’s part too. But now- well… he seemed to be horrified at the idea of- yeah. He was either straight (which Emrys seriously doubted after the way Arthur had kissed his head earlier today”, or he was so far in the closet that he was on a first name basis with Mr Tumnus. “A group of lads I went to school and college with, actually. I suppose I’m closest to Leon - but we don’t all get together as much now” he said, picking up his pint again and draining it. 

“Why not? Surely you can go down to see them on weekends? Have a lads night out or whatever it is lads do. Watch football? Play Xbox?” At this, Arthur’s face curled into a half-smile before he stood up and paced into the kitchen and shouted through. 

“Err, I have Disaronno, Captain Morgan's, Malibu-”

“You were calling me a girl, and you drink _Malibu?!”_ laughed Emrys and he could hear Arthur laughing too. Arthur returned with a new glass in each hand, a bottle of full sugar Pepsi wedged between his elbow and his side, and the bottle of Disaronno pinned under his chin. Emrys jumped up to grab the Disaronno and poured a very generous helping into each glass. After Arthur topped them up with the Pepsi- Emrys took a long drink then threw himself, rather gracelessly, back onto the sofa.

“So then, your friends?” Emrys reminded Arthur, and Arthur nodded- his smile fading ever so slightly. 

“Er, yeah. So we grew up together as I said. Me, Gwaine and Percy were in the same year through school. I knew Leon because his Dad and mine were really close friends. We went camping together during half term breaks when were younger- our family and Leon’s. I don't know, I guess we all made friends and became a big group. Leon took a couple of years out after school to go and see the world with his Dad and then by the time he came back - we all went to the same college together. It was like a ritual. Tuesdays were pub crawls Fridays were pool nights - Percy used to win every time the bastard. Saturdays or Sundays were football days and every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday morning we’d go to the gym. We all practically lived together.” 

There was a ‘but’ there, Emrys was sure. Something pulled at Arthur’s face and his eyes because unfocused, as if reliving an unpleasant memory.

“And then?” he asked, unsure if Arthur wanted to talk about this now.

“And then Gwaine got with Sophia. They were together nearly a year. It was the first time any of us had had a proper relationship and I guess we were all so happy for him. It was ideal, he still saw us for every one of our ritual meetings and the rest of the time outside of class he spent with Sophia. Everyone was happy - but then he came to watch the football one Sunday and- well, I’d never seen him look so horrified. And basically, he told us in very few words that he was in love with someone else.”

“He cheated on Sophia?” asked Emrys, surprised at how angry he was feeling considering he didn’t even know this Gwaine, or Sophia for that matter.

“Oh, no. Gwaine would never do that. He, erm. Wow I’ve never told anyone this before, it’s not my place to go telling people…” Arthur trailed off, worry in his eyes as he fidgeted with the straw in his glass.

“You don’t have to tell me” Emrys said, reaching a hand over to Arthur’s cheek- and his breath hitched when Arthur turned into his touch and inhaled deeply.

“He was in love with a lad in his class, Andrew. Leon went absolutely fucking mental, Emrys, he called him- he called him a queer and a faggot and- it was awful We’d all been friends so long that I just- no one expected it at all. I mean, he apologised later but what was done, was done.” Arthur just stared into his glass, stirring his drink with the straw and scrunching his face into a frown. “He’s not even gay. I guess he’s bi. I don’t know, Emrys, he’s my best friend. My best, best friend” and now Arthur was looking into his eyes, pleading- communicating.

Yes, he was in the closet. And this was why.

Emrys pulled his hand away from Arthur’s cheek- sensing his distress. They’d both had a long day, and quite frankly, Emrys was shattered and a little merry from the drink. He took Arthur’s hand and stood up.

“Come on” he said, and Arthur stood up straight away- confusion lining his face.

“Where are we going?” asked Arthur, and Emrys pointed towards the large window. They walked together, hand in hand, Emrys leading the way to Arthur’s piano stool where he practically shoved Arthur into sitting down. 

“Find me a song you used to play with your Dad. He sounds to me like someone I want to hear more about.” said Emrys, surprised at his own tenderness. He was used to being the person who felt like shit - but at least he never had to hide who he was. He’d help Arthur through this somehow.

He would.

Arthur didn’t even warm up. Emrys recognised the opening noted of _Rain - Brian Crain_ in a heartbeat. He looked down at Arthur’s closed eyes and watched him as he played. He swayed slightly, maybe from the drink, maybe to the music - who knew? But he was so involved and so- so relaxed. He could be himself at this piano. Emrys knew the major lift was coming, and he guided his hands onto the piano, playing around Arthur’s fingers. He’d never had someone to play this with before, but now here they were, the two of them - their hands moving in sync and weaving around each other- harmonising with each other. 

Arthur shuffled along on the stool and Emrys sat without question. Their shoulders brushed as they played and they seemed to relax into one being, one ever-moving, ever-harmonious entity. Like they were destined to do this together. Destined to play together.

And when the song came to it’s final few lines, Emrys played the high notes with his right hand, and Arthur, the low ones with his left. Emrys looked at the piano, but he didn’t miss Arthur staring at him out of the corner of his eye.

When they stopped playing they just sat. It was quiet - too quiet, and so Emrys made a decision. He stretched across Arthur and played the opening chords to _Yellow - Coldplay_. He wasn’t usually a popular music kind of guy, but this song was special to him. This song was one he’d catch his mother listening to on the rare days that she showed any kind of emotion, and if Arthur was willing to play a song so meaningful to him, it was the least Emrys could do to return the favour. 

He knew he sounded weird singing this. His own voice was a far cry from Chris Martin’s- low and raspy. But he could _feel_ this song.

“ _Look at the stars, look how they shine for you and everything you do. They were all Yellow”_

He closed his eyes and felt Arthur, still, next to him. The feeling of the music leaving his fingers and blending with his own voice 

_“I came along, I wrote a song for you and all the things you do, and it was called yellow”_

Arthur’s hand was curling around him. Emrys inhaled deeply.

_“So then I took my turn, Oh, what a thing to have done, and it was all yellow”_

Arthur’s hand had come to rest on the small of his back. He played the keys with more force, creating a dynamic drive that made his stomach flutter and his body tingle.

“ _Your skin, oh yeah your skin and bones_ ”

What was that?

“ _Turn into something beautiful_ ”

Emrys’ eyes shot open and he swung his head around to see Arthur looking straight at him.

“ _You know, You know I love you so_ ” Arthur sang the third harmony, and octave below Emrys and it- he couldn’t, it was… it sounded fucking _beautiful._ Emrys couldn’t finish- he was too overwhelmed. He stopped playing and Arthur looked out of the window and sang the final line alone.

“ _You know I love you so_ ”

There was a pause. Was it a few seconds? A few minutes? Emrys didn’t know for sure, but his blood was pulsing through his veins with a driving force and he was getting restless all too quickly.

“Arthur?” he asked, and it came out as a whisper- still loud in now too quiet room. And when Arthur turned, the golden mess of hair framing his face perfectly; those sky blue eyes hazing into Emrys’ - he couldn’t help it.

He swung himself up and over Arthur in one swift movement, straddling his hips on the piano stool, and his lips met Arthur’s- and they were open, inviting. Emrys placed a hand either side of Arthur’s face and slowly made work of exploring Arthur’s mouth. He felt the hands on the bare skin at his hips and it was like a slow wave of electricity was passing between them, keeping them locked together - keeping them going. Emrys moved his head to the side, angling the kiss better to allow them both better access, and then Arthur’s hands shifted to grasp Emrys’ thighs.

He didn’t move his lips from Arthur’s once as he balanced himself against Arthur’s body. There was a slam as the lid of the piano shut and Emrys gasped as the cold surface of the piano met his back. Arthur was leaning over him now, one hand at Emrys’ hip, the other on his thigh - and they kissed, long, languid and needy.


	13. Mistake (A)

It was too much for his head. He’d managed to remain hangover free for the best part of the day but then coming home and drinking a copious amount of alcohol hadn’t helped his case any. Surprisingly, he wasn’t drunk- but he certainly wasn’t hosting a focused mind either, and hearing Emrys sing _that song_ …

Yellow. It had been the song Arthur and Elena danced to when they were wrecked at that house party before they hooked up. It had been the song they danced to on the beach in Brighton at night when it was freezing and Arthur gave her his coat. It had been the song he sang to her - the first time he’d sung to anyone at all outside of his family. 

It was their song.

But Emrys- he sang it _beautifully_ , and Arthur didn’t know what he felt. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to feel. God he missed her, the _old_ her- and he’d do anything to just have her back in his life for the company, the laughs, the long conversation over takeaway and a few drinks and-

But hadn’t he just had that with Emrys?

_“Your skin, oh yeah your skin and bones”_

Arthur looked at him and he looked back.

_“Turn into something beautiful”_

And there was Emrys, relaxed - all of his barriers broken. This was him - his true self. Happy in Arthur’s company.

_“You know, You know I love you so”_

Something changed in Emrys’ face when Arthur added the third below, and in that moment he felt something pull at his chest. 

Elena.

_Emrys._

He couldn’t bare to look at Emrys a second longer or he didn’t know what he’d do. He looked out of the window at the dark sky - at the heavy rain that had resumed and was now lashing hard against the window.

_“You know I love you so”_

God, he missed her.

Emrys had stopped playing and Arthur could feel that static building in the air around him. All of those fleeting touches and smiles they had shared were there at the forefront of his mind, but there was Elena lurking in the back. That smile that used to make his heart flutter, that laugh that used to make his whole body relax.

“Arthur?”

He could hear the way Emrys’ voice wavered as he whispered, and he exhaled softy before turning his head to look into those stormy blue eyes which were no longer clouded with sadness or fear or distance. They were open, honest and _fuck-_ happy.

His hands immediately fell to Emrys’ hips when he swung himself into Arthur’s lap in one smooth motion. It was as though they knew exactly what they were doing, as though they did this all the time. Hell, maybe Emrys did - but the look he gave Arthur in that second before their lips met said otherwise.

Their kisses weren’t desperate or hurried. No, instead - they opened up to each other physically and emotionally. They pushed inside of each other’s mouths, they held onto each other where they could and pressed their bodies close enough together so that Arthur could feel the heat, the _electricity_ joining them. 

He hooked his thumbs under the hem of Emrys’ t-shirt and slowly slipped his fingers slightly into the waistband of his joggers. Not with any sexual intent at all; just to be closer to this beautiful, amazing, talented and curious young man - and Emrys’ gentle hands against his face made him feel at home- like this was where he belonged.

He stood up from the piano stool, grasping the underside of Emrys' thighs in order to lift him too - for he never wanted to break away from this kiss. He wasn’t even sure he _could_ if he wanted to.

He quickly knocked his hand against the prop, sending the piano lid slamming down with an achingly loud, discordant bang; but he didn’t care. He sat Emrys on his piano, pressing him back into a lying position while he found one of his hips once more. Arthur pushed himself up onto the piano with one knee and found himself deepening the kiss even more - his hand still pulling at the underside of Emrys’ thigh while he was settled between the young man’s legs.

He moved his hand from Emrys’ hip to his hair, and Emrys hooked his arms under Arthur’s and wrapped them around his back where he kneaded at the skin. It wasn't until Emrys lowered his hands and ran them up the hem of Arthur’s shirt, digging them into the skin or Arthur's sides, that he pulled Emrys’ thigh again. Then, as though invited, Emrys hooked his legs up and over Arthur's behind- and _God,_ nothing had ever felt this good before. This closeness, this _bond_ was something he had never felt. Not with anyone, not even Elena. 

He indulged in the feeling of being pressed up against this incredible, impossible young man, and when Arthur wrapped his teeth around the stud in Emrys’ lower lip and tugged, Emrys’ moan coupled with his upwards thrust straight into Arthur’s groin made him realise two things.

Emrys was hard. And _hell_ , so was he. 

He immediately pulled away from the kiss, his lips burning and probably looking just as red and swollen as Emrys’, and as realisation came crashing down around him he shut his eyes. 

There was no way he could be hard, he was straight. No. He'd been- he'd have thought of Elena. Yeah he did, he thought of her and made himself get this way. He'd gotten carried away with his student. God. He'd lose his job. He'd have to leave Durham for sure. Hell, what would Morgana say? What would his father have said? 

He opened his eyes when his student’s lips met his again, and couldn’t help but moan when Emrys angled his head so as to grasp Arthur’s bottom lip between his own teeth and pull him back down to continue. Since when had he been into biting? Had Elena _ever_ done that? _God_ , it felt good. 

Hell, he was _fucked._ His hands moved from the piano back to Emrys’ body, and he couldn’t help bucking against Emrys’ groin when his hand slipped down Arthur’s jeans to grab his ass.

“Oh fuck” Emrys gasped between kisses “look at ya- _fuck-_ Arthur, let me-” and then hearing his voice, his accent, seemed to make something snap into place in Arthur’s mind. He pulled himself off Emrys and leapt backwards off the piano, stepping further back until he nearly fell on top of the coffee table.

 _Shit, shit, shit, SHIT._ This was his student. His fucking student.

“What’s the matter? Did a do something?” Emrys panicked, rushing up from the piano towards Arthur who rounded the table, putting the sofa between himself and Emrys. He looked into Emrys’ eyes for a minute before his student’s face dropped, and all sense of panic was replaced with sadness and- and _hurt._

“Oh” Emrys whispered, “okay then” and then he stood up straight, brushed his hands down his T-shirt and looked away. “I’ll be going then”

Arthur was torn between two selves. This was all wrong, all of it. He should never have let anything get this far, he should never have even asked Emrys to leave the college. He shouldn’t have taken him home after Cenred. But now what? Now he was stood staring at his student who he had just- just _used_ and taken advantage of. The worst part was, though, is that nothing had ever felt like that with anybody, and Arthur didn’t want him to go. 

He had to keep himself in check, keep his emotions held back. There was no way he was letting Emrys out into the dark streets of Durham at this time of night, but he had to make sure nothing else happened and that the night wasn’t awkward.

As Emrys made his way towards the door, Arthur ran forwards and took his arm. “Look, I have had a good night Emrys, I swear I have, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re my student and this was totally unacceptable behaviour on my part. I don’t want you to go, but please, don’t make a move on me again because I can’t- I _can’t_ ” he barely finished the final words without his emotions taking over. What on earth was happening to him? He could barely believe the level of pleading in his own voice, and as he looked into Emrys’ cold, hurt eyes - he honestly felt ashamed of being the reason they looked that way.

“You can’t?” replied Emrys, softer and gentler than Arthur deserved. He started searching Arthur’s eyes now, seeking an answer. “Arthur, are you tellin’ is that you won’t be able to stop yaself if I make a move? ‘Cause if that’s the case, doesn’t that tell ya something?” he asked desperately, taking Arthur’s face in his hands once more.

Arthur leaned his forehead forwards and touched it against his student’s. Emrys’ breath on his face was almost irresistible and he could feel the strain in his own neck from trying to stop himself from taking those lips once more. Instead he inhaled, long and deep.

“I can’t” he whispered out, and then when Emrys moved his face closer and brushed his nose up and down the side of Arthur’s - Arthur began to shake. Their lips brushed several times and Arthur just wanted to savour this moment. He moved his hands to Emrys’ hips and they stood that way for a few minutes- noses touching, lips brushing.

“ _Please”_ Emrys whispered out and though it was quiet, it sounded broken. _“Please”_ he repeated, this time against Arthur’s lips - and his hands moved to Arthur’s hair.

_“Please, Arthur”_

It was too much. Emrys’ lips were already on his, and so Arthur parted his own and as they kissed, deep and passionate and _loving,_ Arthur could feel Emrys’ tears on his own face. He couldn’t leave this impossible young man broken. Not tonight.

So, they spent the night snuggled into each other under the duvet on the sofa, the music of Yiruma playing on Arthur’s spotify, sharing chaste kisses and gentle touches. Nothing more, nothing less.

And it was perfect.

But it was wrong.

 

* * *

 

When the opening synth octaves of _Common People_ screamed from Arthur phone the following morning, he fell off the couch and hit his head off the corner of the coffee table, up-ending a takeaway tray that landed on his face, throwing bits of hard rice into his hair. He manically grabbed for his phone and cursed himself for not having changed his randomised alarm yet. 

As he rubbed his head with the heel of his hand and took in his surroundings, his eyes fell on Emrys, crammed into the back of the couch and bundled in so much of the duvet that it made him look small and vulnerable. Arthur couldn’t help the sad smile that curled on his lips before he took himself upstairs for a shower. It was going to be a difficult morning. 

He was angry at himself- _incredibly_ angry. Or at least he wanted to be. He was so sure of himself. He had been absolutely certain that nothing would happen if he brought Emrys home. He had been positive that he would never, ever allow himself to engage in inappropriate acts with a student, no matter how good it might feel.

He had also been certain that he wasn’t gay. In fact, of that he was still certain. He wasn’t gay - he just liked Emrys. A lot. 

But he couldn’t. 

He turned the water up hotter than usual, whether it was to relax his muscles or punish himself he wasn’t sure, but he let the hot water drip down his face as he tried to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do.

He couldn’t possibly have Emrys in his class anymore, that much was obvious. He couldn’t risk anyone finding out about this, and he absolutely could _not_ deal with that kind of temptation three days a week. He also needed a way of dealing with Emrys this morning. He couldn’t give his student false hope, but he damn well wasn’t going to pretend like last night never happened because it had been so- so…

It had been better than anything.

Call him a coward, but he needed a way out without getting pulled into more of that. He focused his mind back to the timetable printed on his wall and he was certain Emrys had no lessons on a Thursday morning. 

Perfect. Arthur quickly washed himself and jumped out of the shower, quietly and quickly pulling on some clothes. He considered taking a flask of tea to work but didn’t want to risk waking Emrys with the sound. Instead, he grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled a note for his student, before grabbing his keys and leaving the house- locking the door behind him.

“I didn’t want to wake you, you looked far too comfortable. I’ve had to come to work, so when you’re up feel free to take some spare clothes from my wardrobe before you head home. Stick the key through the letterbox once you’ve locked up.

Thanks for last night, Emrys. It was nice.”

 

* * *

 

“Come in” came the old man’s voice. Arthur pushed open the door and smiled at Professor Gaius before taking a seat opposite his boss’ desk.

“Arthur, m'boy. What can I do you for?” Gaius asked, a gentle smile on his face.

“Well, actually Gaius, I’m having a little bit of trouble with one of the students.” Arthur said, desperately controlling his voice and his breathing. He couldn’t give himself away- God help him if Gaius ever found out the truth.

“A little bit of trouble wouldn’t bring you here, Arthur. So you must be sugar coating a little. What has happened?” Arthur was very grateful to have Gaius as his mentor for his NQT year. The man was very understanding and very helpful- which was why, Arthur reminded himself, this was a good plan.

“I have a student who is showing repeating patterns of disruptive behaviour. He is not only ignorant and full of attitude, but he down right refused to do work the other day, and when I spoke to him after class he knocked all of my papers on the flood and knocked a chair over” The words came flooding out, and surely it was okay that Arthur was bending the truth a little bit, right? After all, he was the teacher, Gaius would surely take his word over Emrys’.

“Are we speaking of Mr. Smith by any chance?” Gaius asked, eyebrow raised. Arthur merely nodded, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose to try and ease off the headache that was staring there. The alcohol had been a bad idea. 

“I will put him under suspension for a week, starting tomorrow. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and his learner profile suggests that a break is usually the best thing for it. I’ll speak to his Mother as well.”

“He isn’t a child” Arthur snapped, and he could have kicked himself. Here he was trying to save his own neck for fear of losing his job and he was making the situation ten times harder for himself.

“You’re right” replied Gaius, eyeing Arthur a little more carefully now. “But his Mother will get through to him. She always does.” Arthur nodded before Gaius’ phone started ringing. “I need to take this, Arthur, ut take care. Oh- and well done on almost surviving your first week!”

Arthur nodded in thanks and let himself out of Gaius office. When the door closed behind him he leaned back against it and threw his head back. That was it. Emrys was out of his class for now, and he wouldn’t have to see him anymore. This was exactly what he needed. Or, at least that’s what he told himself as his stomach churned and he ran to the staff toilet and vomited for ten minutes straight.

He just wished it had been the alcohol that had made him sick, and not the guilt.


	14. Sabotaged (E)

As Emrys drifted slowly out of his dreamless sleep, he pushed his face into the warm mountain of duvet above him and inhaled. As the familiar scent of aftershave, shampoo and _Arthur_ clouded his senses he pushed his hands to his face and smiled to himself. 

It had been perfect. All of it.

He noticed Arthur wasn’t with him on the couch - and he rolled over before opening his eyes. Thankfully, the blinds were shielding the sun from breaking through the front window and when Emrys followed the light of a single beam across the room back to the coffee table in front of him, he spotted a note folded neatly on the table. He didn’t want to even admit it to himself but his heart fluttered in his chest and his fingers shook as he unfolded it.

He let his eyes trawl across the words four times without even reading; because he was far too stunned at Arthur’s neat, cursive handwriting and when he pictured Arthur writing him the note, he thought of Arthur’s hands and the way they held onto his hips, the way they ran through his hair and the way they’d felt entwined with his own.

When he did finally read the note, he brought it up to his face and _God,_ he was beaming like an idiot. He practically leapt off the couch and he made his way to have a quick pee before he paused outside of Arthur’s bedroom. He turned to look in the mirror that was stood on the landing and when he looked at his reflection, he swore he saw a different person there. He looked at the way his smile looked on his face, and he realised that he hadn’t seen it like this before. Had he ever smiled like this before?

He brought a finger to his lips and shut his eyes, remembering the feeling of Arthur and the way he kissed slow and languid - and how he’d tugged at Emrys’ lip ring and _God_ that was hot. He opened his eyes again and saw a flush of colour on his reflection’s cheeks. He nodded at his other self before smiling once more and as he entered Arthur’s bedroom, the thought crossed his mind that maybe he wouldn’t hate looking at himself quite as much anymore.

The scent of Arthur was overwhelming in here - and Emrys spotted the bottle of aftershave on the dresser. His smile widening, he looked around to take in the room. It was bare for the most part; made up of furniture and a few boxes of what he guessed were unpacked belongings.

He opened up the wardrobe and looked at the selection there. He wouldn’t take anything fancy- no. He reached up to the shelf at the top and pulled down a black T-shirt, grateful not to be wearing his white one any longer. Unsure of what to do with it, he folded the white shirt on the bed, and after pulling on the black one - he hastily made his way to the dresser and sprayed himself with Arthur’s aftershave.

He’d been smiling the whole time, and as he jogged back to the landing, he remembered he didn’t have a coat. Turning around, he wondered whether Arthur would mind if he lent a jacket too. Finding himself at the wardrobe again, he pulled open a drawer and inside was a _huge_ collection of scarves. This made sense with Arthur having to cover his tattoos. He tugged at his lip stud with his teeth as he fumbled through and finally decided on a black and red dogtooth scarf. He couldn’t imagine Arthur wearing it; and Arthur had said to take what he needed. 

He smiled into the scarf as he pulled it around his neck, and his fingers brushed against the sensitive spot where Arthur had sucked a bruise into his neck on the sofa after a tickle fight. His life had gone from chaotic to perfect in the space of a few hours and it was all thanks to this one person that he had known for three days.

As he made his way downstairs, he took one last look at the piano. She really was perfect, and though he never said anything, when Emrys had heard Arthur playing Nuvole Bianche, he cried into the cushion beneath him. Arthur played like he did- but _no one_ played like he did.

Emrys smiled towards the beautiful steinway, and he was happy that she had been the one to bring them together. She really was beautiful -just like her owner. He struggled to bring his eyes away from her, just as he and Arthur couldn’t take their eyes off each other last night as they lay on the couch. They had fallen asleep looking into each other’s eyes - and if Emrys had shed a tear or two once Arthur drifted off, he’d never admit it to anyone. 

He took the keys and let himself out into the cold, crisp air before closing the door behind him. He pressed the key into the lock and, biting his lip, he pressed his forehead to the door. As he locked up and posted the key back through the letterbox, a draft caught the scarf Emrys was wearing and the smell of Arthur surrounded him once more.

He didn’t even remember the walk home; he was too busy remembering what it felt like to actually be happy. 

 

* * *

 

 

When he pushed open the door he was met immediately by his Mother. He made eye contact with her very briefly and tried his best not to look like he was living on a cloud. As he closed the door and made to walk past her, she stuck her arm out in front of him - halting him in his tracks.

He carefully avoided her gaze as she looked him up and down. “That isn’t your scarf” she said matter-of-factly. To anyone else, her statement wouldn’t mean very much; but Emrys knew better. He braced himself and kept his face vacant of emotion as best he could.

“You’re right” he replied, and that was as much as he was giving her. Apparently it wasn’t the response she wanted. She snapped her hand away and stepped in front of him, her face ducking under his to try and meet his gaze. He sighed before letting his eyes meet hers.

“Merlin, I don’t give a shit how old you are and what you do with your time, but you will _not_ disgrace this family by whoring yourself-”

His contentedness was soon replaced by a burning rage that roared up from the pit of his stomach. “Whoring myself out? Is that what you’re going to say - because you’ll be happy to know, _Mother_ , that I have only ever slept with one person in my entire life and that was at least three months ago. I didn’t sleep with anyone and even if I wanted to, it would have fuck all to do with you!”

He watched as her eyes widened and her jaw slackened - and then her brow furrowed and her skin darkened to a dark pink colour. He knew what was coming - this wasn’t the first time they had this argument and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Merlin Emrys Smith! How _dare_ you be so- so rude! I am your Mother and I have a right to know what goes on in my son’s life- and I have had it with you spending nights out of this house without telling me where you are! It’s not happening again and that is _final!_ ”

Emrys just bellowed a distant, cynical laugh and stormed passed his mother, before pausing on the stairs. He’d usually go to his little outhouse and smoke himself into an emotionless bliss but he didn’t want that today. No, he was happier than he could ever remember being and he wasn’t going to let her take that away from him this time. He turned to face her and walked slowly down a few stairs, ensuring he kept his distance and a slight height advantage. From there, he bent over and stopped when his face was merely inches from hers.

When he spoke, his voice was low and unlike anything he had heard from himself before. “You should be grateful that I told you that I was staying out at all. If you want to know the details of my life, then maybe you should try making an effort to be a part of it first,” - and with that, he turned and walked proudly up the stairs without so much as a backwards glance. 

Honestly, he wasn’t exactly sure what his mother’s intentions ever were. She tried to pull it off as the whole ‘I do this because I care about you’ charade, but Emrys could see straight through it. There was a time when he firmly believed that he was just in her way, and that’s why she got the job on the Cruise Ships - to be away from it all.

They were two different people. When his Father left, his Mother became robotic, but volatile under pressure. She had done everything on her own from that day onward, and had never involved herself with other people. Emrys, however, became more reliant on Will than ever before. His happiness fed off love and care from other people where he could get it. He had been robbed of the love of his Father, but that he could live without.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised that there were only two times in his life where his heart had fully broken; the more recent being that day on the beach with Will. That day felt like hell and it tore him to pieces. He was recovering from a long time afterwards and to be honest, he still wasn’t fully over it. But that heartbreak, as heavy and agonising as it was, had nothing on the day he realised his Mother didn’t love him.

Emrys rested against his bedroom door, letting his legs bend beneath him and his back slide down until he reached the floor. He didn’t feel upset or angry or alone anymore. He pushed his hands up underneath the folds of the scarf and let his chin sink into the warmth there. The heat took over his body and when he closed his eyes, he thought about how Arthur’s limbs tangled with his own on the sofa and the way they both complained that it was far too hot under the blankets. Neither of them moved.

A tingling sensation arose on his neck when he shifted his head slightly and he was reminded of how Arthur nosed across his collarbone before placing gentle, chaste kisses on his neck, his chin, his lips. They talked about anything and everything. Arthur liked Harry Potter and Dragonball and still watched cartoons on the TV, and Emrys told him about his guilty obsession with Nineties pop music and fanfiction -he was pleased to learn that Arthur was a Drarry shipper. They shared kisses between every other sentence and rubbed their noses together, grinning when they did so. When they had fallen asleep, it was with their fingers entwined and their bodies moulded to one another, as though they were meant to be that way.

Emrys sighed to himself happily, before throwing himself on his bed and grabbing his laptop. He eyed the wallpaper picture with discontent and searched through his laptop, finally replacing the picture of he and Will with a picture of a beautiful Steinway and Sons piano. 

After doing the usual scroll through facebook and tumblr, he opened his emails.

 

**_Unread (1)_ **

**_< from: gaius.williams.phd@durham.ac.uk>_ **

**_Subject: Progress Meeting. Sent: 9.36am_ **

 

It was definitely unusual to receive an email from Gaius. The head of music would normally just contact his Mother if he had anything to say. Gaius had been a friend of the family since Emrys could remember, and at one point the man was very much like a Grandfather to him. After Balinor’s departure, however, they grew distant. Emrys clicked open the email with curiosity.

 

**_< from: gaius.williams.phd@durham.ac.uk>_ **

**_Subject: Progress Meeting._ **

_Good Morning, Mr Emrys._

_As I believe, you are to attend your Venue Performing lesson with Mithian this afternoon. If you wouldn’t mind calling into my office beforehand, I’d like to talk with you about your week so far._

_Please stop by at about 12.30 if you can._

_Regards,_ _  
_ _Dr Gaius Williams (Head of Music)_

 

Emrys fired back a quick email to say it wouldn’t be a problem; and as he played with his lip stud between his teeth, he closed his eyes and smiled in the hope that he might bump into Arthur today.

 

* * *

 

 

He’d changed his jeans and slipped on a leather jacket before leaving the house and heading to the uni. He slipped into the toilets to make sure his hair was still intact and as he walked the corridors to Gaius’ office, he couldn’t help but play with the scarf around his neck, bringing it up to his nose every now and then, reminding himself of everything that was Arthur.

“Come in, Emrys” came Gaius’ voice from inside. The door had been stood slightly ajar and Emrys stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He immediately sat in front of the Electric Yamaha piano that Gaius had in his office. The very same piano he had played in Gaius’ house when he was young.

He ran his hands across the faded wood of the lid and smiled when his fingers came to a little dent at the left side. “Yes, you seemed to enjoy the idea of using my piano as a piece of firewood when you were just a boy. Whoever thought it wise to make wooden toy axes for children had obviously never met you, m’boy” said Gaius with a certain fondness to his tone. Emrys looked at the piano a little while longer and then turned to face his teacher.

“Can I?” asked Emrys and Gaius nodded, eyes fixed on the young man.

It was a well known fact amongst his family that Emrys despised classical music for the most part, but this song had a place in his heart; and it was the song that made him fall in love with the piano.

He didn’t warm up, instead he dove straight into the colourful opening notes of _Arabesque_ by _Debussy_. He immediately lost himself to the music and closed his eyes - allowing himself freedom to truly explore how the music made him feel. The 8th note arpeggios and the introduction of the E Lydian made his heart flutter and he thought back to how Arthur played Nuvole Bianche, and how the music poured out of him like emotion - and Emrys put as much of himself into this song every time he played it. His relationship with music was stronger than anything, and he had Debussy to thank for that.

As the music moved through his fingers like electricity, urging him on and pulling him in to the beauty of Polyrhythm and how it ingeniously captures the the ear of everyone around - unnatural, yet incredibly comforting and pleasing. Debussy, whether Emrys liked him or not, was a genius. He followed the ascending and descending patterns and brought the song to a calm and peaceful diminuendo.

He opened his eyes and closed the lid, eyeing the dint there once more.

“It was always my favourite.” said Gaius, and Emrys couldn’t help the little smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Come and take a seat” he added, and Emrys wordlessly walked over sat in the grey fabric chair facing his teacher.

“I used the term progress meeting very loosely” began Gaius, and Emrys watched as the older man nodded to himself and a frown pulled at his face. He then met Emrys’ eyes and the he watched as the professional face of his teacher turned into that of of an old friend. “Look Emrys, you have to see reason here. I know you didn’t want to study classical music - and you certainly didn’t want to be transferred to a completely new course that you knew nothing about. Do you know how hard your Mother worked to get you that scholarship? She pushed you and pushed you and it has brought you here. Your talent is incredible, son. I know you don’t like it but you ought to be more grateful-”

“Grateful?” Emrys interrupted in a calm manner. “Gaius, I appreciate what you are trying to say but my Mother had no influence whatsoever on my instrumental ability and I could have gotten the scholarship without her. In fact, I would have.” Emrys gripped onto Arthur’s scarf for strength. He knew he was being bold and he could feel anger niggling away inside of him, but he would remain calm. He would, because if he could open up to Arthur the way he did then he could do anything. “’I’d prefer it if we don’t talk about her right now” he added, and Gaius merely nodded disappointingly. He then sat up straight, all emotion disappearing from his expression, and he was, once again, Professor Gaius Williams - Head of Music.

“Emrys, there have been reports that on Monday and Tuesday you were acting out of sorts in the classroom.” He couldn’t really deny this - it was the truth after all. He bunched Arthur’s scarf up around his face and inhaled that unbeatable scent, nodding for Gaius to continue. He was smiling like an idiot again. “It’s different at University to what it is in college and unfortunately, no matter how we may know each other outside of your education, I have to treat you like any other student. Two days of disruptive behavior followed by a day of absence isn’t acceptable.” Emrys nodded again, admitting to himself that Gaius was right - that he had been a bit of a dick. He’d only done it to provoke Arthur, though, and of course - his absence yesterday had been due to the events of Tuesday night. Either way, he was ready to tell Gaius that it wouldn’t be a problem - that he had no intentions of winding Arthur up anymore. “You may go to your lesson this afternoon if you wish, but starting tomorrow you are suspended for a week”

Emrys’ heart almost fell out of his arse. “A week?” he asked frantically. How the hell was he supposed to not see Arthur for a week? “What kind of University suspends it’s students? You can’t possibly-”

“The prestigious, red-brick kind of University does. We have a reputation to uphold, Emrys” Gaius replied, a tired expression washing over his face.

“Please Gaius” he pleaded. He may have been able to get the scholarship alone, but Gaius had been right. His mother had worked herself to the bone trying to get Emrys where he was now (regardless of whether he wanted to be here or not), and a wave of guilt washed through him. “Gaius she’ll eat me alive if I get suspended! Please, I can’t- Can’t you speak to Arthur?” he gripped the scarf tightly, reminding himself of how he gripped at Arthur’s hair as they licked into each other’s mouths. He calmed down almost immediately. “I’m sure Arthur will argue my case here” he replied in a steadier voice.

Gaius looked at him oddly and let out a long withdrawn sigh. Emrys’ mind was still focused on the feel of that hair between his fingers, the marks that he left on Arthur’s neck that would be made harder to see because of the tattoo. He thought again of the cuddles and snuggles and warmth of just having someone there who actually _wanted_ to spend time with him. Someone who made him feel like he wasn’t alone.

“Emrys, it was Arthur who requested I remove you from the course and he looked rather disappointed when I said I can only suspend you for the week.”

Emrys’ fingers came to a halt in the folds of the scarf and he was sure for a second that he stopped breathing. It was as though time had stood still so that he could watch his happiness get crushed before his eyes but he couldn’t move fast enough to catch it.

He'd spent the night at Arthur Pendragon’s house last night, and they had broken every rule in the book - or at least Arthur had- and Emrys honestly and _stupidly_ thought that they’d be willing to do anything for one another. He thought he had a friend.

He thought he had more than that.

He was already out of Gaius’ office when his brain came back to reality somewhat, and he could feel the ground shaking under him as he walked. He tried desperately to choke back the hurt that was unfurling in his bones and his mind and his heart- and he had made it out of the teachers’ office corridor. He only had to make it out of the building, he only had to get away from the mess he'd gotten himself into.

The walls began to spin around him and he tried to put his hands out to ground himself and to bring himself back to sanity but it was too much. After years of wanting, he thought he had the chance at something that could make him happy. Something that could make him _whole_. He'd been wrong.

His knees gave underneath him and he crumpled to the floor like a heap of unwanted, overused laundry, and when the first sob ripped through him it hurt more than anything he had ever felt before.

It tore at him from the inside, the pain aching to find an escape but when it did, more filled its place. He tried to be quiet but the wails and whimpers left his body in a stream of agony. He thought for just a moment that he might be good enough for someone, that he might be enough at all - but he was just a toy. An experiment.

When he first heard the footsteps he was going to ignore them. Not until they came to an abrupt halt somewhere to his left, did he look up - and even now he hated himself. Because when he looked up at that strong jawline, that mess of golden hair, those beautiful blue eyes- he instinctively bunched his hands in the scarf and some part deep inside of him yearned for it not to be true.

The eye contact between them was short lived, but viscous nonetheless. Arthur broke it when he looked at Emrys blankly then turned and walked away. With him, he took what little  remained of Emrys’ fractured heart.

 

* * *

 

 

He didn't even make it into his house. Instead, he threw himself down in front of the door of his little outhouse where he tried to hold what was left of himself together. He frantically raked his pockets with shaking hands until he found his key and after a few rushed attempts, he managed to unlock the door.

It was too much to stand up. It was too much to even drag himself all the way inside, so he stopped when he was far enough in for the door to close behind him. He was finally out of the way.

His entire body started to tremble now and he buried his face in his hands, in _his fucking scarf._ Why did he still have it? Why was he still even crying? He didn't know; but when he inhaled that bittersweet smell of Arthur, knowing that it would be the last time, a dry, burning sobbed ripped through him. He doubled over and his hands hit the floor beneath him- and he sobbed. He sobbed until his stomach cramped and until his ribs ached and until it hurt to even breathe.

He'd never felt like this, and it wasn't justifiable. No, he needed to stop. How could he stop?

He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and after 4 failed tries of typing in his passcode and a treacherous thirty second wait, he opened up his recent calls.

Will.

That was what he needed.

“Hey, Merls. Look, about- Merls? _Merlin_ ?” Emrys lasted all of half a second before he practically wailed at the sound of his voice. He could even find it in him to speak. “Merlin you're going to tell me what is wrong, come on. Fuck- I can't even get to you, how am I supposed to fucking- _shit_ Merlin, tell me what's happened please. Come on, come on.”

It was _his_ Will. Honestly, he had thought that hearing this Will would have made the pain worse, but he felt him stomach relax a little and he tried to stutter out words between gasps and sniffles. “Will. I- I don't even fucking know. Gaius said he was suspending me for a week and I haven't done a fucking thing. I haven't- and now I- I don't know what I want anymore I don't even know who the fuck I am” he managed to choke out before a fresh new wave of tears broke through.

“I swear to fuck, Merlin, if I find out that Pendragon bloke has fucked you over I will come down there and I am-”

No.

“You won't touch him- he, well, yes it's his fault will but that doesn't mean you can come and fucking bray him. He just, I don't even know what he-”

It was a noise this time that interrupted Emrys. A noise that was seemingly unnatural, and certainly not one he had ever heard from Will before. It was low, guttural and possessive. It was angry.

His voice then came out in no more than a whisper. “You slept with him.” Emrys shook his head desperately, but of course Will couldn't see.

“No I didn't fucking sleep with him. We kissed, we just kissed,” and the memory of it alone was too much now that he knew it had been fake. It had been Arthur’s idea of a laugh. Emrys had opened up to him, told him everything. He had trusted him.

It was mostly silent on the other end. The only sound keeping Emrys on the line was Will’s deep breathing. He was thinking.

“Merlin?” he asked softly and Emrys could only manage a pitiful _‘mmhm’_ in response. “I know I have no right, but can you make me a promise?”

Emrys didn't make promises.

“Emrys you have to report him. It's a safeguarding issue, he can't do that to you. You're his _student_.” Will sounded desperate. He was pleading as though he actually cared. Maybe he did.

“No” Emrys answered, and he was sick. He wouldn't report Cenred for trying to- well… he wouldn't report him, so he wouldn't report Arthur either. This was his first ever teaching job and it wasn't like Emrys didn't want to.

God knows he wanted to.

He still did.

“Oh, come on Merls. You can't be fucking serious, he's obviously playing you like some sort of weird fucking predator. He's using you! You're too easy and you fall for people too fast. You need to find someone who - no, what am I saying?” Wills voice was a mixture of frantic and angry and desperate and he was stuttering over his words. “Merlin, it's about time you looked in front of your eyes at what's already there for you.”

And there it was. He should have known.

Emrys couldn't help spitting the words out like they were bitter on his tongue. “Really, because what I see in front of me is my phone because you're fucking miles away, Will. You are here for me when it suits you and that is-”

“Merlin that isn't fair!” Will shouted. “Are you fucking seriously going to give me that? I wanted to stay but you pushed me into doing this! You fucking told me to come here! Do you know what I'd give to be there for you right now and to knock that fucking twat’s head off his shoulders?? I knew you were an idiot Merlin, but come _on._ ”

Beneath all of his self-pity, his anguish and his heartbreak; Emrys thought about what was just said to him, about this situation, about the entire week so far - and he laughed. It wasn’t a giggle or a snicker; it was a low, cynical cackle - hysteric and a little bit crazy.

“Will, when you can come here and tell me that to my face - that’s when I will fucking believe you.” he sighed after his laughter abruptly stopped.

For a minute he was amused in a twisted kind of way. Was there a single person alive who wasn’t playing him? It was almost a joke. Then, the reality of it all hit him again; that he really was just a meaningless form of entertainment to everyone else, but he was that desperate to feel that he just hadn’t seen it.

He was nothing more than a whore.

He began to tremble again - and no one checked in on him when he spent the entire night in the cold outhouse, his muffled sobs ringing through the garden.

He was done.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all very much for sticking with me!
> 
> There will be a longer break than usual in the story now - but not too long!
> 
> And for Arabesque by Debussy:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVYH-7QGE-A


	15. Unauthorised Absence (A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back from our break!
> 
> I wanted to mention that as Arthur grows used to Emrys' accent - the phonetic spelling will become less prominent. :)
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me so far - things are gonna get fun!

_‘When it’s time to party we will party hard’_

Arthur’s ears almost started bleeding as he frantically scrambled for his phone. _Party Hard_ was not his idea of a good wake-up call. When he found his phone he quickly unlocked it and immediately opened his emails.

Unfortunately, being a University teacher meant that Arthur received an unsightly amount of emails on a day-to-day basis, and yet the one email he longed for, he hadn’t received as of yet. His hopes briefly soared when he saw a message from Gaius received at 5.47am (seriously, did he ever sleep?) but it was just to enquire whether Arthur would be interested in double marking some work.

After making a mental note to reply once he got to University, Arthur dragged himself into the shower and went through his usual morning routine without much thought.

The last three weeks since Emrys had left had been like Groundhog Day for Arthur. Sure, he loved teaching and he loved the job - he’d even started receiving his Skype classes for his Masters in Education - but there was no excitement anymore. With Morgana flittering between his house, a hotel room and a friend’s house, Arthur was growing a little tired of her presence. He loved her, of course he did, but she knew something was chewing at him and it wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have.

He should have never let himself be influenced by Emrys. He shouldn’t have allowed things to get out of control and then he wouldn’t have had to do what he did. Arthur didn’t really have many regrets when he thought about it. He regretted the circumstances leading up to his Father’s death but that was about all. Well, until now at least. As much as he knew it would kill him to look at Emrys again, he knew getting him kicked out was a wrong move. Especially considering Arthur was the one in the wrong throughout it all.

Now, it had been 1 week and five days since Emrys was due back and there had been no sign of him. Both Mithian and Gaius had tried and tried to contact him and to get him to return but the attempts had been unsuccessful and according to Hunith, Emrys’ Mother, he had spent most of his time sleeping at a friends house.

Arthur hated himself. Every one of his students was talented, there was no denying that, but Emrys was something else. His level of musicianship was incredible and according to Mithian he had worked incredibly well with the other students in group tasks. He used his emotion to steer his playing; and though risky, Arthur knew it was a skill that very few people could master.

He pulled on a navy pair of skinny jeans, an oversized black jumper and his black and white checked, slip-on vans that he’d owned forever. He was that caught up in his own overthinking that he got all the way down the drive before realising he had forgotten his hat and scarf. He did an awkward run back to the house in the rain and grabbed his usual tan beanie and a black scarf, and he shivered when the cold breeze caught the back of his neck. The back-end of October was approaching and he realised that getting an undercut just before winter probably wasn’t the smartest move but he didn’t care.

He had managed to push most thoughts of Emrys out of his head. In fact, he had been doing a superb job. He’d gotten a haircut, a new tattoo, marked a load of work, started on assignment guides for the next module and he’d started decorating his house. He had probably have been able to forget about Emrys had it not been for the dreams. The dreams about piano playing, finger-brushing and sly kisses in the corridors when no one was watching. Kisses where Emrys would drag him around a corner and pin him against a wall, running his hands through and pulling at Arthur’s hair.

That’s why he’d gotten it cut.

He had honestly thought Emrys would return by now. He knew that what he did was probably unforgivable but surely Emrys knew how good he was… surely he wanted to continue with the course at least?

The rain hammered against his car windows and the drive felt ten times longer than it was.

 

* * *

 

“Arthur, m’boy! What can I do you for?” asked Gaius in his usual cheery Friday voice. Arthur had been at his desk all of ten minutes when he had arrived and that was all it had taken to make him lose it. He had managed fine before today but he couldn’t anymore - the guilt was too much. Emrys was a bloody genius and he needed to come back so he could make something of himself.

“Morning, Gaius. Actually I wanted to talk to you about Merlin Smith” Arthur felt unusual using Emrys’ first name but he had to be professional about this. He was sure Gaius had impeccable mind-reading skills and that eyebrow reminded him of Alistair Moody’s eye - it seemed to look into his soul.

“Ah yes, Emrys... Take a seat” Gaius gestured, and Arthur sat opposite the old man.

“Well, what it is... I-”

“Look” interrupted Gaius, his eyebrow slowly rising up his head like it was on the Pepsi Max big one. “I do not know what happened between you and Emrys in class, but you are a teacher and your references suggest to me that you are more than capable of handling yourself. You have been a fine example of a lecturer, Arthur. You may only be Newly-Qualified but I haven’t seen such an informal, yet informative and effective teaching style in all my years in education. You are a great asset to this team and I do not think that one student’s behaviour is enough to deter you.”

Arthur gulped and watched as Gaius looked back to his computer screen as if he hadn’t just given Arthur possibly the biggest (and most undeserved) compliment of his entire life. He wanted to feel proud, he really did - but if anything it made him feel even worse. If Gaius had known what had happened…

Arthur shuddered and cast the thoughts out of his mind before the Eyebrow of Sauron had time to realise what he was thinking about.

“No Gaius, I actually wanted to see if you had received any word on his return. You see, we may have had a- an er… a disagreement, but he is an absolute fantastic musician! In fact he’s probably better than I am, and the emotion when he plays and his _technique_ , and have you heard him sing?? I’d love to get him to- not that I teach him for practical lessons but I would love to help-”

“Arthur, you’re waffling” Gaius interrupted again and Arthur’s mouth snapped shut instantaneously. “Yes, Emrys is an incredible musician with many talents but he has his faults - most of which lie in control. He is not a better musician than you, though with the right assistance I have no reason to believe he can’t be.” Gaius looked back to his screen and then back to Arthur with curiosity. “You are a good teacher Arthur. I can tell that you doubt it, but it is the truth. Emrys will return. He always does.”

And with that, Gaius gave Arthur a nod which was a polite way of saying that the conversation was over. Arthur just smiled and nodded back and when he left the room he felt no better at all about anything.

He was just thankful it was Friday - he needed a drink.

 

* * *

 

Arthur and Morgana had found themselves at The Boat Club yet again, and chose a window with a river view. This time, there was an acoustic duo playing - and Arthur appreciated the melancholy vibes that the pair provided. As usual, Arthur didn’t bother to change (other than losing the hat and scarf), and so he looked incredibly underdressed next to Morgana in her wine coloured, tuxedo-wrap dress.

They weren’t here to drink this time (much to Arthur’s disappointment), because Morgana wanted to plan. As it happened, it was Arthur’s turn to host the occasions this year. Every year, Arthur and his friends would take turns hosting Halloween and Christmas parties - and the lads were incredibly keen to visit Durham and sample its alcohol and its women (‘men and women’ Gwaine had added at the time). So this was how they found themselves sat in a pub with Morgana’s Moana notepad between them - working out how they were going to do things.

“Okay, don’t worry about the decoration - I’ll sort that out because you’ll be too busy with work.” Morgana said with a wave of her hand. Arthur was happy to just sit back and let her sort this. He had lived with Morgana long enough to know that she was the best person in the world at organising a party - and she would probably rip out the throat of whoever disagreed. “The lads are staying at the Travelodge for the weekend - but I’m thinking we could rent The Avalon for the night on the 27th - next Saturday. It’s essentially a fancy holiday home up near Observatory Hill. It’s secluded, it’s a reasonable little sized bungalow and it has a bar which we can pay to have filled. It’ll be great for me to decorate and we can just order some of those giant party pizzas from that place near the Uni. It’ll be great Arthur! Do you have a guestlist?”

Arthur knew that Morgana was only asking out of courtesy. She would invite whoever she wanted - and even in Durham she seemed to know half of the people here. He had no doubt there’d be plenty of guests - and if anything he was hoping to score a little action to help him forget about a certain someone.

“As long as the lads are there I’m happy” he replied, taking a sip of his rum and coke and smiling when Morgana clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Okay, so that’s that sorted! Everyone knows it’s fancy dress and I’ll be sure to have plenty of people there!” She said, sliding her notebook and pen back into her handbag and then letting her hair down and removing her glasses.

From business to party in one swift move.

“So, are you going to talk to me about the Emrys kid?” Morgana asked and Arthur had to punch himself in the chest to stop himself from choking on his drink. “Oh please, Arthur. Don’t try and beat around the bush here. I know for a fact that you both had a thing that night when… Anyway, there was obviously something there. So why is it getting to you?”

Honestly, Arthur had no idea how she managed to see straight through him all of the time. He thought of Gaius’ eyebrow and how paired with Morgana’s telepathy they could probably create the world’s most advanced, all-seeing, all-hearing mega human. An unwanted shiver ran down his spine and he stored that thought away with his other irrational phobias.

“Morgana” Arthur croaked when he finally recovered “It was nothing. Honestly, I was just drunk and he was there and I let my idiocy get the better of me” Arthur had forgotten how easy it was to lie. Especially when it’s one lie after another. “I miss Elena okay, and I haven’t had any in a while and he was the closest thing to-”

“Arthur Pendragon! Tell me you didn’t shag him!” Morgana all but shouted across the peaceful bar, turning a few heads in the process. Arthur glared at her with nothing other than total hatred.

“Oddly enough, I didn’t” he whispered. “We kissed and it was weird because I kept thinking about Elena and I guess he was there and it got a bit heated and a bit touchy-feely. I realised what I was doing, though, and I stopped it”

Arthur watched as Morgana sipped at her wine, never taking her eyes off him in the process. She didn’t look convinced.

“He’s my student Morgana” he said in an accusatory tone, as though this was somehow her fault. “I went back to the uni and got him excluded for a week for disruptive behaviour but he still hasn’t returned and I feel awful about it”

Arthur almost weeped into his glass as he necked the rest of his drink. He really didn’t deserve to feel sorry for himself but he couldn’t help it. Emrys had been a lovely person and would have been a good friend but Arthur had been drunk and confused. He wasn’t gay and he certainly wasn’t about to sleep with his students.

“Oh he’ll come back” Morgana smirked and Arthur couldn’t help but eye her suspiciously. “Take my word for it, Artie. He’ll come back”

And that was the last they spoke of it.

 

* * *

 

Tedious. That was how Arthur considered his life now. He remembered promising himself that he wouldn’t become a social recluse but here he was, on a Saturday evening, watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban for the 665th time ( _yes, that is how old Nicolas Flamel was in the Philosopher’s Stone)_. Morgana had travelled down to Leeds for the night to visit yet another friend and Arthur was sat alone in his candle-lit living room with a multipack of BBQ beef hula hoops and a large glass of wine. He was like Bridget fucking Jones.

More than anything else, Arthur missed his friends. It had been hard enough trying to catch them all out of work when he lived back in London and he figured it wouldn’t be too much different up here. He also didn’t realise how much work went into teaching and he suddenly had a lot of respect for those who did it full time.

He paused the film just as an invisible Harry was pelting snowballs off Draco’s head, and then he raked his phone out of his pocket and opened messenger.

 

**_Group Chat: Knights of the Square Table_ **

 

Arthur smiled, remembering Gwaine’s argument that the table didn’t need to be circle because a square was just as equal - and he wanted to have an even amount of room to rest his elbows.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _Laaddddssssss - I take it Morgana has been in touch?_

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _Sod off, Pendragon - some of us have work in the morning!_

 **_Arthur:_ ** _It is quarter past nine, you fucking clampet._

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _Ooooooo somebody is sensitive tonight._

 **_Leon:_ ** _Yeah she let me know - you’re booking an actual house for the party? I didn’t even know you could do that._

 **_Arthur:_ ** _It had nothing to do with me - you know what she’s like._

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _Oh Leon knows what she’s like ;) ;) ;)_

 **_Arthur:_ ** _What the fuck is that supposed to mean?_

 **_Leon:_ ** _Fuck off Gwaine - he’s just being his usual idiot self._

 **_Percival:_ ** _Come on - why do we always do this when I’m working?_

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _Who the hell are you training at this time of night?_

 **_Percival:_ ** _People who are to busy to do it any other time, obviously. Arthur - she said fancy dress - how fancy are we talking?_

 **_Leon:_ ** _We aren’t going themed again surely?_

 **_Arthur:_ ** _Well I chose last years, which means that it’s Gwaine’s turn_

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _AWWWW YIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSS_

 **_Leon:_ ** _Do we have to let him choose? You know what he’s like._

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _I already know what we’re doing._

 **_Percival:_ ** _Topless men of power?_

 **_Arthur:_ ** _Christ_

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _How the hell did you know?_

 **_Percival:_ ** _Because you got absolutely hammered last Saturday and told me, idiot._

 **_Leon:_ ** _My break is nearly finished guys, talk later._

 **_Arthur:_ ** _Topless men of power? What does that even mean?_

 **_Percival:_ ** _It means Gwaine wants to get laid_

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _Actually, Percy, it means men who hold some sort of significant powerful role - who also happen to be topless. You could be Hercules, Zeus - fuck you could be Ghandi as long as you did it topless._

 **_Arthur:_ ** _That is not a mental image that I needed._

 **_Percival:_ ** _Right lads, I’m being the most ignorant PT ever. Talk later x_

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _Ergh Perce, stop with the kisses._

 **_Arthur:_ ** _Well I’m not being left alone with Mr ‘I can do push ups with my dick’ - so I’m off - The Marauders await my return._

 **_Gwaine:_ ** _You’re a geek, Pendragon._

 **_Arthur:_ ** _You love it ;)_

 

Arthur slipped his phone back into his pocket and played the film. He was happy Gwaine and Leon were back on speaking terms - but things still weren’t completely right between the two of them. Leon had really freaked after Gwaine’s gay side was revealed and there was a lot of tension - but Arthur had no reason to worry about that now.

Regardless of their fallouts and their differences, he loved his friends just as much as he loved Morgana, and if seeing them meant he had to dress as someone half-naked - then so be it.

 

* * *

 

On Monday morning - Arthur awoke to the opening drums of _Down With the Sickness_ and it took all he had not to smash his phone to pieces. Instead, he turned it off. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought about how much he hated early mornings - and next he knew he was getting repeatedly whacked in the head with a rather cold hand.

“Get up you lazy shit! Aren’t you teaching in ten minutes?” Morgana yelled at him.

What?

“Oh shit!” Arthur whispered before leaping out of bed and into his bathroom. He briefly heard Morgana shouting about having a flask of coffee made as he fought his way out of his lounge pants and into the shower. How the hell had he fallen back to sleep? He never did that - ever.

He had been in the shower barely 3 minutes before getting out and roughly towel drying his hair, tossing on a pair of navy skinny jeans, a plain white tee and a black cardigan. He’d only get there a little bit late if he was quick enough.

“Morgana, email Gaius from my account and tell him to tell the class I’m running late.” he shouted as he grabbed his bag, shoved on his all-black old skool vans and sprinted to his car.

He’d already broken half the rules by snogging a student so breaking one more rule wouldn’t hurt, surely? Arthur pushed his foot to the floor in his car and practically raced to the University. He’s gotten there in no time at all and by some miracle it was only just after 10. He’d just shorten the lesson and spent the time giving feedback on the most recent test they did in-

“For fuck sake!” Arthur shouted as he slammed the boot of his car shut and then punched it for good measure. Had he really forgotten to put the class' work in his bag? Where the hell was his head at?

He stomped his way through the corridors until he reached Gaius’ office - and he barely had time to say a thing before Gaius eyes fixated on his neck. He’d forgotten his scarf too.

“Arthur…” Gaius started, the all-seeing eyebrow on it’s ascent to judgery again “I don’t know what has happened this morning and I’m not going to ask. Just please go and teach your class and hope one of the officials doesn’t stick their head through the door.”

Arthur’s face must have screwed up in some sort of anger because Gaius shot him a warning glance before Arthur nodded and strutted to his classroom. He all but kicked the door open and he didn’t spare the students a single glance before walking to the board and writing ‘Transcribing Music’.

“I apologise for being late, today we are-”

Arthur was then interrupted by a cough. Not just a normal cough, it was obviously a cough reminiscent of Umbridge’s in the great hall. Someone wanted to ask a question.

He pushed his forehead to the whiteboard, closed his eyes and willed some higher power to give him strength to get through this day. It took all he had not to punch a hole through the desk as he turned around, eyes still scrunched together.

“Yes?” he asked, looking down at his clenched fists on the desktop and wondering how hart he’d punched his car for his knuckles to be bruising already.

“Er, a haven’t been here so a don’t know what we’re doin’.”

There was no way he had come back to class today of all days. No fucking way. Yet, when Arthur looked to the back of the class to see a mess of black hair and a black denim button-down shirt - there was no mistaking that it was Emrys.

Arthur gulped and turned back to the board.

“Then you will have to catch up. It was your choice to miss classes and it is your own responsibility to figure out where we are” he said as he wrote down some song titles on the board.

There was only one way to face Emrys right now and that was Professionally.

Nothing had ever happened between them.

Nothing.

 


	16. Halloween (E)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the following two chapters, I would like to introduce to you all...  
> The Knights of the Square Table!
> 
> (Sorry this took so long, this is my favourite chapter so far so I wanted to do it justice!)

Emrys had considered not going back at all. In fact, he had been certain that he wouldn’t - but as usual he found himself getting rather bored. At first, he’d managed to nab himself a job at a gin bar on the coast back at Sunderland; so he’d been sleeping over Gwen’s a lot. With the absence of both Will and Arthur he had managed to clear his head a little and had been playing around with composing music when he wasn’t at work. The shifts were still killing him, though. He was lucky to get back to Gwen’s by one in the morning and it made him incapable of waking up in the morning- especially considering how much sleep he wasn’t getting.

Emrys had always suffered from nightmares and he’d been used to having them. He was used to seeing the face of his father behind his eyes, and seeing Will’s look of horror before he ran away. He was used to seeing the pain on his Mother’s face whilst she cowered and he was used to the loss he felt at having no one truly there for him.

The problem was that Emrys wasn’t having nightmares. He was dreaming of none other than Arthur Pendragon. He was dreaming of being wrapped up in strong arms, of sharing laughs and friendly insults, of kissing as though he wasn’t the only one enjoying it.

The dreams were vivid, passionate and pretty perfect… it is why they hurt him more than anything else, why he trained his body to wake up as soon as Arthur’s face appeared in his mind.

Of course, once he’d gotten into the flow of his new shifts and figuring out his routine, he got awfully bored. Gwen was off doing her teaching qualification at uni and Emrys was stuck in her house with nothing to do. He’d been adamant that he wasn’t going back to Arthur’s classes until Gwen hit him across the head with a pizza box one night and asked him when he’d started caring so much what other people thought.

She had a point. Other than hers and Will’s; Emrys hadn’t valued anyone’s opinions before now- so was he going to let Arthur Pendragon get in the way? No- he wasn’t. So that was how he found himself where he was now. Sat in the back of his teacher’s class being treated like a piece of dirt.

Arthur had made a point of avoiding him all lesson. He hadn’t even dared look Emrys in the eyes on the few times he had spoken to him, and it took everything for Emrys not to laugh at the audacity of it. Arthur _had_ been the one to invite him back to his place and he had definitely not tried to stop Emrys from kissing him; not _really_.

Regardless, Emrys wasn’t a total prick, so he didn’t bring it up. He did, however, need to find out what work he needed to catch up on if he was going to prove that he could be the bigger person and actually commit himself to this course and do well at something for once.

“Alright, everyone, you’ve worked well today. I know it’s a little early but I’m going to let you pack up and I promise I will actually bring your marked work with me next lesson. Have a good day.”

Arthur had quite literally addressed everyone in the class other than Emrys before returning to his desk and turning his back to the class.

Emrys was surprised by how different Arthur looked. Of course, the class had never seen him without a scarf so with a low-neck, white tee - his tattoos pretty much leapt off his skin. Not that he was paying too much attention, but the t-shirt was very thin and Emrys could see the outline of what appeared to be a new tattoo over part of Arthur’s chest and peeping out over the hem of his shirt; but he couldn’t make out what it was.

As the rest of the class made their way out of the classroom, Emrys remained firmly glued to his seat. He watched the student’s filtering out until the last one had left and the door swung shut behind her.

“I have dismissed the class, you can go.” Arthur snapped from the desk where his back was still turned to Emrys.

“You know, I just want you to let me know what I’ve missed. Is there anywhere I can get hold of the work you’ve been doing in class?” Emrys asked. He struggled to keep his voice level but he was determined to stay calm. To be the bigger person.

“I’ll get Gaius to email you. Next time, if you want to do the work; try actually turning up to class” Arthur hissed as he fumbled with papers on his desk. One of Emrys’ flaws was that, as far as determination was concerned, he didn’t have much of it.

“Do you realise that you instigated this just as much as I did?” he spat, noticing that Arthur stilled immediately. “You wanted it just as much as I did, and do you know what - more fool me.” He stood up and his chair scraped across the floor, the sound echoing through the room. He found himself storming towards Arthur before he had time to stop himself. “You’re nothing but a fucking prick, Arthur,” he sneered as he pushed himself up against Arthur’s side and leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “And I promise I won’t miss kissing you when I’ve got my dick buried in someone who actually deserves it.”

With that, he strutted out of the University with a smile on his face. That is what he would do. He would find someone else. No Will, no Arthur.

He just needed a good, emotionless, carefree shag.

****

* * *

 

“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod you won’t fucking _believe_ where I have been invited! And by I, I mean we, obviously!” Gwen wrapped her arms around Emrys when she arrived at his house and squeezed so hard that he made a mental note to count his ribs later on to make sure they were all intact.

“Do I want to know?” Emrys laughed as he absorbed the mischievous look on Gwen’s face. That look meant nothing other than alcohol and boys.

“Soooooo, it’s Halloween next Wednesday and Lance has invited us to a party that he’s been invited to!” she yelled as she more or less pranced into Merlin’s bedroom. His mam was away for a few days and so he had the house to himself, and with the colder weather filtering in he didn’t want to force Gwen to sit in his outhouse. Hang on...

“Lance?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Gwen slapped him on the arm and threw herself down onto his bed.

“Mmmmmm” she replied, closing her eyes and biting her lip and honestly, Emrys almost didn’t want to know what they had been getting up to on that teaching course. “It’s the _worst_ , he’s so dreamy, Em. He has the most gorgeous hair and eyes and his _voice_ is something else. You should hear the way he pronounces the names of some theorists… Anyway, he was invited by the bloke whose arranging its’ sister, and then he invited our research group and now I’m inviting you!” Gwen shot upright again on the bed and dragged Emrys down so he was on top of her.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he was gayer than a picnic basket this would probably be totally weird; but this was how Gwen was with him. He hated calling her a friend, because that wasn’t what she was. Their faces were millimetres apart and there was no spark, no chemistry- just total ease. He places a little kiss on the end of her nose before rolling off of her and onto his side. Gwen propped herself on her elbow and raised an eyebrow at him. He really had no will power at all.

“Okay, fine. Where’s it at?” he asked with a smirk and Gwen’s grin was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Someone hired Avalon up near Observatory Hill! So not only will there be a cracking view but it’ll be secluded! Imagine what people will be getting up to knowing they won’t be disturbing the peace - God this is going to be a proper party, Em. It’ll be like an episode of skins or something!”

“Yes, well I take it it’s fancy dress as well with it being Halloween, so what do you have in mind?” he asked, watching that sly look crawl back onto her face. For the few year, he and Gwen had always wore matching outfits to their Halloween nights out, and they always won at least one costume competition. So far, their most successful had been Avatar themed costumes.

“Well, I was going to ask what you had in mind actually. I know I stole your thunder a little last year so we should make a mutual decision.” Gwen laughed and Emrys recalled the year previous when they argued for a whole week over which of them was going to be Captain Jack Sparrow. Of course, Gwen won.

“You know what?” Emrys wasn’t really fussed - as long as he could forget about Will and Arthur. “I’m going to give you total reign under one condition,” he teased as he leaned forward and brushed a finger gently over her cheek.

“And what would that be?” she asked, an eyebrow raised.

Emrys ‘booped’ her on the nose with his finger and they both giggled like children until Gwen climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and tickling his stomach until he was an incoherent mess.

“Tell me!” Gwen complained. She stopped tickling him and leant down with her elbows propped either side of his head. “Please, Em” she added, this time widening her eyes and sticking out her bottom lip.

Emrys smirked and surged up, grabbing her lip between his teeth and pulling her back down towards him while she screamed and giggled.

He gently pulled away and placed a gentle peck on her lips before sighing in mock-defeat.

“I guess I’m looking to get laid” he said matter-of-factly, and he watched as Gwen’s face passed through several stages of shock, mock horror then complete elation.

“Oh my GOD! I have been waiting for this for so fucking long!” she squealed as she jumped off his lap and onto the floor. She raked in her bag and pulled out her phone and immediately started hammering at the screen with her fingers.

“Gweeeennnnnn... What are you doing?” Emrys asked, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his bent knees.

“Oh god, it’s perfect.” she whispered as she turned the phone around.

“Oh,” he gasped. It wasn’t what he was expecting at all, but fuck it. Go big or go home. “Yeah, it is” he replied, and Gwen threw herself at him for another bone-crushing hug.

 

* * *

 

“Good morning, everybody,” Emrys looked up from his usual spot at the back of the classroom to find Gaius making his way to the front of the classroom. “I am sure you have all met me before, but for those who haven’t my name is Gaius and I’m head of this department.”

Gaius scrawled his name on the whiteboard and set about providing the class with tasks that would help them prepare for their micro-teaches. Music Education was a pretty dull lesson and was probably Emrys’ least favourite. He had no intentions of teaching anyone at any point in his life, and he certainly didn’t want to teach music - not while the curriculum was still steered towards classical music. Unfortunately, due to his absence, this was Emrys’ first Music Education lesson. He’d read up on what he’d missed and had been emailing Gaius. He really wanted to prove his worth, even if the topic didn’t interest him; but for the life of him he could not concentrate.

Arthur was supposed to teach this class, so where was he? Gaius hadn’t mentioned Arthur’s absence at all, and Emrys was disappointed when none of the other students asked. He knew that it wouldn’t do to dwell on his teacher, but Arthur was always there at the back of his mind, as was Will.

As though she read his mind, Emrys’ phone vibrated as he received a text from Gwen.

 

**Gwen:  9.56am**

**G:** I can not wait for tomorrow… guess whose outfit just arrived! xxx

 **E:** Well considering you dragged me shopping to buy yours, I’ll guess and say that it might be mine? xxx

 **G:** Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep! You should see it Em, you’re gonna look unbelievable! xxx

 **E:** I better, otherwise you’ll have a lot to answer for xxx

 **G:** Oh please, this outfit combined with me at your hip is gonna be enough to attract attention from EVERYONE xxx

 **E:** Yeah well, as long as it’s someone fit xxx

 **E:** Oh, and someone male preferably xxx

 **G:** Emrys if you were open to women then I would have hit that long before now xxx

 **E:** So you keep reminding me… Look you’re interrupting my class and Gaius is giving me the devil’s eyebrow. I’ll talk to you later, yeah? Love you xxx

 

Emrys crammed his phone back into his pocket, and the lesson dragged on for what felt like forever. He was put into a group with Carter, a ginger, busty American transfer who played the cello, and Gregory, an extremely tall saxophonist from Russia.

They briefly discussed on what topics they could cover before Gaius signalled the end of class. There was an unscheduled practice for the class’ performance module this afternoon but Emrys had no intention of attending.  Gaius had made it clear that he had missed too many rehearsals and that he’d have to do some sort of show of his own instead to be graded.

Emrys took that as a blessing for now and as he was heading out of the campus and towards the bus stop, he lit a cigarette and pondered over what had made Arthur skip his class. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Emrys found himself dearly hoping that Arthur wasn’t ill.

 

* * *

 

“Oh my GOD!” Gwen all but screamed as he walked down the stairs of his house. He had seen the outfit on the mannequin in the picture, sure, but he did _not_ realise how different he looked in it. He had intentionally been avoiding a mirror and he was sure as hell that if his Mother hadn’t chosen tonight to run some late errands, she would have probably died of utter horror.

Merlin Emrys Smith was not made for outfits like this and he was definitely not comfortable with the whole idea.

“What do you think then?” Gwen said as she gracefully twirled around. If Emrys was grateful for anything, it was that Gwen had done extremely well in choosing a matching outfit and he was almost sure that, although not the intention, all eyes would probably be on her tonight and not him.

He supposed Gwen had a very flattering figure if you were into that sort of thing (which he really wasn’t). She was wearing a black lace bodysuit which had leather buckled side panels and some sort underwiring that made her boobs look a million times bigger than what they probably were. Emrys figured that the boobs alone would be enough to distract attention from him, but then Gwen had back-combed her already-wild hair and had put on her makeup in such a way that she looked like some sort of dark goddess prepared to suck away your purity. These combined with the thick leather choker, fishnet tights and _extremely_ short, leather hot pants were going to leave men literally drooling all over her.

“I think you're probably going to give poor Lance a stiffy as soon as he sees you.” Emrys answered before receiving a punch in the arm. “Ow!”

“You know it's all good and well saying that, Em, ” Gwen mocked as her eyes travelled slowly down his body. “but I must say- I mean I've seen you in skinny jeans but these…” she trailed off, her eyes halting over his crotch as her eyebrows raised.

“Oh, fuck off, Gwen” he retaliated with a worried laugh. He supposed he had agreed to this, and it wouldn't do to try and argue with Gwen. No one could beat Gwen in an argument. Honestly, he had been expecting some sort of witty response, but instead Gwen just took his hand and entwined her fingers with his.

“Em?” she smiled gently as she looked up at him through her thick false eyelashes. “We are going to go to this party and find you somebody. Somebody kind and loving an-”

“And pretty sexy, I hope” he added with a grin and Gwen couldn't help but giggle.

“Come here” she said she moved her hands to his shoulders and pushed him down a little do they were level with each other. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't for a stick of eyeliner being rammed into the bottom of his eyes.

“Gwen! I never said you could- I didn't-”

“Oh stop your wriggling or you'll mess it up!” she reprimanded. It was bad enough that she'd made him wear black nail varnish and a combination of studded leather cuffs and a studded choker to match her own, but now he was being forced to wear makeup.

He felt like a pin cushion.

“Fucking hell” Gwen gasped as she allowed him to escape her grasp and stand straight again. “Em, seriously… do you ever wonder what would happen if you weren't gay?”

Emrys’ eyes shifted from spiteful to content in less than a second and he gave Gwen a confident look. “I don't have to wonder because I know. You already know that I love you and I mean it when I tell you that, Gwen.” he walked forward and entwined their hands once more. “You are beautiful. Both to look at and on the inside, and if I were straight I'd have probably tried to get in your knickers ages ago” he added, and Gwen gave a shy laugh before looking down at her feet.

“I sometimes wish you were straight.” she muttered, her voice a little uneven. “It’s not that I don't love you as a friend or anything, but I sometimes think I'll never find anyone as perfect as you, and you're right here in front of me and I can't have you”

Emrys couldn't deny that he'd been shocked at this confession, but the love he felt for Gwen was unlike any he'd ever felt for anyone else.

“But you do have me” he replied, moving his hand to her chin and tilting her head up to meet his eyes again. “Gwen, I love you more than I have ever loved a friend before and that's because- well, I suppose you aren't my friend really, are you? You're more than that and you always have been.”

Something happened then, and the two of them looked at each other in a way they hadn't ever before.

“Do you think that- I mean you said you had never- I mean with a girl…” and Emrys put a finger over her lips and he understood perfectly what she was saying. He was lost in the moment and so was she.

“I know what you're asking, Gwen.” he assured, and she nodded and clenched her eyes together with a nervous laugh.

“And it won't change anything? If we pretend, just for a little while before we leave?” she asked, her eyes darkening as she took her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I promise.” he whispered as he closed the gap between them and kissed Gwen in a way that he hadn't ever before.

And that was how they found themselves needing to get into their outfits all over again an hour later.

“Does this mean I’m realising I'm bi at 20 years old?” Emrys shouted from the bathroom as he looked in the medicine cabinet mirror and tried to flatten his incredibly unruly hair. Gwen appeared behind him and pulled his hands away from his head.

“Leave it, it looks good.” she giggled before taking some hair wax in her fingertips and brushing it through his hair. “And no, it doesn't mean you're bi. Are you attracted to women? Are you even attracted to me?”

“Mmm, okay” he added, and they both ensured they looked the part again before Gwen rang a taxi and Emrys thought over what she had said

He headed into the hallway and stood next to the free-standing mirror there. He didn't even want to see what he looked like in full, and he was sure that nothing would prepare him.

Instead, he watched as Gwen pulled on her over-the-knee leather, buckled, high heeled boots. She had been right, he wasn't at all attracted to women, or to her either. But it was still nice in a way, to have given it a go. It hadn't been unpleasant at all, and probably would have been more enjoyable if it hadn't been a constant battle for command; but he knew in himself that he would never have been able to do that with any other girl than Gwen. Not ever.

“Taxi's here” she cheered as she bounced around and flapped her arms. Gwen was the over-the-top, cheerful post-sex type of person. Emrys nodded in response and without even thinking about what he was doing, he spun around before he walked out the door and paused when he faced his reflection.

He was almost unrecognisable. The black mesh shirt was translucent enough to be able to see the outline of his abs, and he hadn't noticed until now how the material made his nipple studs look even shinier than what they were. Then as his eyes travelled downwards, he knew immediately why Gwen looked at him the way she had, why the leather trousers had been so hard to get on, and why Gwen told him to leave his boxers off.

He wasn't one for body confidence at all, and he certainly wasn't the egotistical type; but he found his eyes being drawn back to his crotch whenever he tried to look elsewhere.

He looked huge.

And of course, Gwen had given him a pair of below-the-knee buckled, leather boots and a thick black studded belt for his jeans. Hell, he had considered himself as a little gothic already but this took the idea to a whole new level.

For the first time in a long time, he thought he looked okay; and if the two of them played their cards right then they'd probably both have a proper shag by the end of the night. He was certain of it.

 

* * *

 

“Bloody hell, you weren't lying when you said it'd be a big party,” gasped Emrys as the taxi pulled into the long winding drive of Avalon House. Gwen wound down the rear seat window and the sounds of muffled music, shouting, screaming and laughing filled the car.

“This is like, the best party ever.” she replied as she sat, gaping at the house as they pulled up a little way outside of it.

On the way here, he and Gwen had conjured a plan. It wasn't too different from their usual flirting with each other and holding hands and being extra close, but this time it was kinky Halloween, and Gwen insisted they be cuffed together. So, ever the gentleman, Emrys got out of the taxi after paying the driver and walked around to open Gwen’s door. Even with heels she still wasn't as tall as him, and it was adorable.

Not that he'd ever tell her so, or she'd kick him in the shins.

“M’Lady?” he drawled as he offered his arm, and as Gwen pulled herself out of the taxi she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Why thank you, Emrys. You're ever so chivalrous.”

It took everything thing they had not to laugh, and soon enough they were distracted by the amount of whistles and appreciative glances that were being sent in their direction. They paused by one of the columns at the porch of the house and when Gwen whispered “now,” Halloween mode had been activated.

Emrys placed a tactical kiss on her lips and pinned her against the column, and then in one smooth (and now well-rehearsed) action, Gwen spun them around and pushed him into the column so his back was to her.

He heard the clanking of metal before he felt the cold against his wrist and he could feel the presence of the people around him.

“You, my darling, are under arrest” Gwen announced as she cuffed his wrist to hers before placing a heated kiss on his neck. “Anything you say _will_ be er.. Held against you” she whispered loudly into his skin before pulling away with a giggle, and as they headed for the open door to the house, he made sure to glance back to all of the open jaws and wide eyes around them.

God, he loved Halloween, and he knew that if they kept this up - people were going to be all over them.

Emrys barely even had the chance to glance around before Gwen had somehow found a little bar. “Now you see, you are right-handed and I am left-handed so this will work perfectly!” she said as she picked up a bottle of a suspicious looking, unlabelled, green drink. He obliged by unscrewing the cap and then yelled at her for drinking it out of the bottle.

He knew how these parties worked and he didn’t want to admit it, but he felt anxious about getting drugged or something. He opted to play it safe with a bottle of desperados and much to the amazement of a group of girls nearby, he popped off the bottle cap with his teeth.

“Trust you to get all the attention from people you don’t want it from” Gwen laughed as she tossed back her drink in one before turning around and facing the room.

Neither of them could see anyone they recognised, and so they started rating people’s costumes.

“Well missus legs over there in the bunny outfit looks absolutely unreal but it’s too cliché so I’ll have to give it a 7.5” Gwen stated and Emrys nodded in agreement.

“Oh god, actual crisis over there in the sanitary towel costume. Why on earth do people think that is okay, Gwen? Eurgh, a 0.4.” Gwen laughed and disagreed immediately.

“Got to raise awareness for those of us that bleed a river every month, Em. I’ll give him a 3 for effort.”

They continued that way for a while before Gwen seemed to forget they were cuffed together and physically dragged Emrys into the corner of the room.

“Gwen! What the hell, what are you- where are we-”

“Shhhh he’s here!” Gwen half-shouted, half whispered, and as they found a spot behind a few Futurama characters.

Emrys waited in anticipation of seeing Lance for the first time, and when Gwen pointed out an absolutely _giant_ , muscly, topless Freddie Mercury; Emrys had to pick his jaw back up from the floor.

“Christ, Gwen- he’d impale you!” Emrys gasped before receiving a kick in the shin (he knew it’d happen at some point).

“Not Freddie you fucking pillock, the one he’s speaking to!” Gwen scolded - and Emrys trained his eyes to the bloke next to 10-foot-Fred.

Bloody hell, he could see what Gwen had been pining over. Lance was all tanned meat and muscle in extra-tight jeans, a white top, dark, quiffed hair and a tightly fitted T-Birds jacket. He was absolutely fucking delicious, but Emrys stopped himself before he let his thoughts carry him away. Lance would be the only one off-limits to him tonight and it wouldn’t do to start thinking about just how electrifying he might be in bed.

“You touch him, Em, and I swear I will cut off your dick- no matter how good it is” she growled without taking her eyes off Lance. Emrys couldn’t help but blush. After all, he mightn’t have told her but other than Will, Gwen was his only other shag. Sure he’d given the odd blowjob here and there but he hadn’t ever had the opportunity for much else before Will had gone to uni.

He was happy that Gwen seemed to enjoy the sex, but it was overwhelming for him. It was pleasurable, sure, but it had felt so unconnected and he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking about Ar-

“I swear I’m not joking, Emrys. Tell me you won’t touch him.” Gwen insisted, pulling Emrys out of his thoughts.

“Aye, I won’t touch him- I swear!” he assured her, and with that moment’s passing, they started Plan A - _Give them what they think they can’t have_.

 

* * *

 

It had been working like a charm so far. Emrys had noticed that Lance could _not_ take his eyes off Gwen, as she grinded up against him while they danced in the large living space. He also notices that every set of female eyes seemed to be on him, but he tried to pretend not to notice and instead waited for Lance to come and steal Gwen away.

“Let’s grab another drink!” Gwen shouted over the music and Emrys nodded. It proved a lot harder to get to the drinks table cuffed, and so Gwen made the spontaneous decision to set their wrists free, which in turn made it easier for Emrys to snake his arm around her hip and pull her close to him while he trailed kisses down her neck.

“It’s working” he whispered as he lanced over to where Lance had put his drink down and moved further into the room to see where they were going.

Gwen busied herself with pouring a very generous helping of Southern Comfort and lemonade (he made a mental note to keep a bucket next to the bed when they went back to his house) and just as he picked up another bottle of desperados, a hand wrapped around his hips from behind.

“No one who dances like that can honestly say they are straight” a low, enticing voice breathed against his ear and _God_ , the hairs on his neck stood on end and he involuntarily pushed himself back into the strangers grasp ever so slightly.

“The same can be said for those who tease other men in front of a whole room” Emrys replied, his voice equally as inviting. He made a point not to turn and look at the other man.

“My friend’s friend, Lance, likes your lady friend here” the man purred, and Emrys laughed a low, alluring laugh.

“Then maybe your friend’s friend, Lance, should grow a pair of balls and do something about that”

“I second that!” Gwen said after choking back her drink, and when Emrys turned to face her (he didn’t forget she was there, honest), she had a certain sparkle in her eye and glanced at the man still wrapped around him.

Emrys moved his hand slowly down his torso until it met the warm hand that had a tight grasp on his hip, and he gave the hand a gentle squeeze and waited for it to be withdrawn. Only then, did Emrys turn around to see a _very_ pleasant-looking merman. His hair framed his face in sleek brown waves, and Emrys slowly trailed his gaze past those curious hazel eyes, past the dark scattering of chest hair, past those fucking _chiseled_ abs and down to the intricate, black and silver mermaid tail.

This costume was easily the first ten of the night.

“Gwaine,” the other man said as he held out his hand, and Emrys decided then and there that he was going to keep up the act. He looked down and raised an eyebrow at Gwaine’s hand, and instead of shaking it, he stepped forward and leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

“Emrys” he breathed, and he heard Gwaine audibly swallow.

“Did you know, Emrys, that mermen have gills?” Gwaine muttered into Emrys’ hair.

“They do? And why would that be relevant to me?” Emrys asked, pulling away and leaning back against the drinks table. He watched as Gwaine’s eyes dropped to his torso and then trailed back up to his face again.

“You’d be amazed what a man can do with his throat when he doesn’t rely on it to breathe.” Gwaine teased, and Emrys tried his best to ignore Gwen almost choking on her drink as she watched.

Two could play this game.

“Oh really?” Emrys asked, toying with his lip stud between his teeth.

“Really,” Gwaine whispered “and if I am assuming correctly, which I usually am,” Gwaine took a step closer so that he was stood slightly between Emrys’ legs. “Then I would guess that you’d be pretty interested in having dibs on the biggest cock in the room”

Emrys smiled confidently and looked down at his feet for a moment. “You assumed one thing incorrectly, though” he replied, his voice cool and steady as he felt his hand along the table.

“I did?” Gwaine asked with a hint of uncertainty.

“Mmm, you did. You see, Gwaine,” Emrys looked up at the crown on Gwaine’s head- King Triton. He smiled a little more before peeling back the bottle cap with his teeth and spitting it to the ground. “I believe you’re wrong.” Emrys then took Gwaine’s hand, and in a moment of either complete idiocy or total bravery, he pulled it to his own crotch and pushed himself forward into Gwaine’s grasp. He then leaned in so his lips were mere millimetres from Gwaine's and he whispered “I guess you aren’t the biggest cock in the room after all”

In one move, he managed to clasp one side of the handcuffs around Gwaine’s wrist and the other around his own, before dragging Gwaine away in search of some privacy; and he paused briefly to see Gwen stood at the beer table with Lance alongside her.


	17. The Knights of the Square Table (A)

Arthur never thought he’d see the day where he’d manage to put in enough effort to make himself look so utterly unrecognisable.

He was a little let down with Gwaine’s choice of theme. He wasn’t the type to go walking around half naked in front of people, but he also wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge. This had been the first time that Arthur had managed to think of a costume himself before Morgana got her hands on one for him; and she had seemed more than impressed with his idea.

Of course, now that he was looking at himself in the large, mirrored wardrobe in Avalon House, he felt a little uneasy about his decision.  

He thought it was a clever decision given his many musical talents; and he figured that the shimmery, fake tan wasn’t  _ that _ bad - but Morgana’s idea that ‘you should add a modern twist!’ suddenly seemed a little over the top.

He glanced over his reflection. He had styled his new undercut so that the top of his hair, where it was longest, was messy. He wore a golden head chain around his head to match the golden cuffs around his wrists and left bicep. His tattoos were all visible now, including the almost-healed black and red dragon that curled over the left side of his chest, over his breast and shoulder and up to his neck. It had been something his father had sketched before he’d died; and he had it slightly altered to suit his taste.

Around his waist, he wore a single white cloth with shiny, golden lining (and he  _ was _ wearing white boxers underneath, thank you very much), which was pinned low on his waist, revealing all of his abdominal muscles. He hadn’t realised how much the University gym had been paying off, and that he could easily give Gwaine a run for his money this time around. The majority of his legs were on show, and he wore strappy, leather sandals on his feet (which he’d spent  _ ages _ trying to locate).

The thing that bothered him the most, though, was the makeup. It wasn’t really that obvious apart from the black eyeliner and the gold in the corner; but it was enough. He didn’t want to be seen as appearing effeminate.

He sighed at his reflection and made a mental note to avoid going outside where the wind might reveal even more of him than he’d like, and then he picked up his golden lute and fastened it over his shoulder with a leather strap.

Apollo, God of Music, was ready for the party.

****

* * *

 

“Pendragooonnn!”

Arthur heard the unmissable torment of Gwaine’s voice while he poured himself a Jack and Coke, and then upon turning around, his eyes were met by a fucking  _ mermaid. _

“What happened to men of power? I didn’t think Ariel was a bloke” Arthur teased and Gwaine punched him in the arm with a chortle.

“I’m Triton, you absolute dickwad” Gwaine replied - and they greeted each other with some manly hugs before Percy (dressed a a rather giant, and of course, topless, Freddie Mercury) and Leon (dressed very convincingly like Khal Drogo) made their way over with Morgana and Mithian.

Arthur was pleased he had invited his colleague, and she looked remarkable in her very well-fitted Catwoman outfit. He’d never been out with Mithian before outside of work and it would be nice to see her let loose a little.

“Arthur, you never told me that Morgana was a music teacher too! And a harp player- I wish I could play the harp!” she squeaked before giving him a friendly pat on the arm. It wasn’t hard to tell that Mithian wasn’t a hugger, and to be honest he was pleased about it. The less people he had to touch in this state of undress the better.

“Yeah sorry, she’s really good at the harp, actually. Cello too” Arthur added and Mithian turned back to eye Morgana with awe. And she wasn’t the only one eyeing up his sister.

Arthur cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at Leon when he noticed that his friend’s eyes were firmly zoned in on his sister’s breasts. Leon actually had to double-take to realise that,  _ yes,  _ Arthur  _ had _ been coughing at him. Then he aptly chose that moment to converse with Mithian while Morgana took Arthur’s hand and looked around at the room.

“You know, Artie, I mightn’t ever say it but I’m incredibly proud of you, you deserve to have this.” She breathed before dropping her head to his shoulder.

He let his head fall to rest on hers and he exhaled a happy sigh. “I only ever got as far as I did because I had you to look up to. You really are incredible.” Arthur replied, and Morgana gave him a little side hug and a peck on the cheek before dragging Mithian off to meet some friends.

It was rare that they ever had little moments like that, and to be honest they didn’t need to. Morgana knew that Arthur loved her just as much as he loved Dad, and that was what mattered. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see you,” Arthur reminded Leon as the two of them watched Mithian and Morgana at the bar. 

“Oh, come on, Arthur. I wasn’t looking at her like  _ that. _ ” Leon replied sheepishly and Arthur smirked.

“If you say so. How’s the kitchen?” Arthur asked. Honestly, he has been incredibly surprised when Leon had confirmed that he’d been able to get an extended weekend off for this party. He was head chef at Marco Pierre-White, and though he was a level-headed pussy cat when socialising, he was an absolute animal in the kitchen and could probably give Ramsay a run for his money.

“Hectic, mate. We had bloody Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen in last week and there was a sea of people trying to break through the doors. Not to mention the girls that managed to get in through the bathroom window. Absolutely ridiculous!” Leon laughed as he wound his fingers through a braid of his hair.

“So, how come your costume is so good this year? It’s obviously not store-bought, and it’s much better than anything you could ever make yourself. So come on, spill the beans.” Arthur said as he poked Leon in the rib.

“Oi! I might have had some help, alright? But I’m saying no more!” Leon complained as he rubbed his rib and the two of them turned when they heard Gwaine shouting.

“Leave him alone! Just because he doesn’t have a shirt on, it doesn’t give you the right to fucking touch him! You’ve got best part of your tits out, do you want me to grab th- actually don’t answer that, just leave him alone!”

Gwaine fighting off Black Widow and Poison Ivy whilst wearing a mermaid suit would have been hilarious in any other circumstance, but the look on Percival’s face made Arthur’s stomach churn. Percival had previously been in a relationship with a girl, Freya, when they were in college. They’d been together for some time but it seemed to have taken a long time for them to get things going. Percy was infatuated with her- he had absolutely adored everything about her. Things had always been a little weird, though, whenever the lads would talk about sex or anything of the sort. Arthur just guessed that he had wanted to keep his private life private, but that hadn’t been the case. 

When Freya cheated on Percival with a bloke called Jonathan Daegal, Percy had been absolutely shattered and it took weeks to get him to even eat properly. He didn’t go to the gym, he didn’t socialise or sleep… and eventually (with a lot of persistence), Gwaine got through to him and immediately realised what the problem was. Because, for all Gwaine was a seedy wanker at times, he was also surprisingly intelligent and extremely caring.

It turned out that in the year and a half Percy had been with Freya, they had never had sex. Apparently, he was more than willing to be on the giving end of other activities, but he wouldn’t let Freya touch him at all. Then when Gwaine asked him why not, and had tried to tell him it would have felt the same as having a wank- well, Percy basically said he didn’t enjoy wanking all that much.

Though the concept of this was pretty foreign to Arthur, it turned out that Percy had a huge issue with his body and his appearance, and that he just didn’t really find people sexually attractive. Yes, he thought Freya was beautiful, and he had definitely loved her; but there are some things that you can’t change about a person. 

Freya wanted physicality and Percy didn’t, and so it had to end.

“You alright, Perce?” asked Leon, tapping the gentle giant on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I just blame Gwaine for this whole topless thing.” Percy mumbled to the floor.

“Oi, I was full on ready for a cat fight right there! No one touches Percy’s abs but me.” Gwaine said with a wink, and even though Percy shot him a rather unpleasant and threatening look; Arthur could tell that it had lightened the mood a little. 

“Lance!” Percival shouted and all three of the knights turned to stare at the T-Bird walking in their direction. “Lads this is Lance. My Dad and his are good mates and we grew up round the corner from each other. Turns out he goes to uni in Sunderland, so I invited him. You alright, mate?” Percival said as he pulled Lance in for a bro-hug and Lance gave him a firm slap on the back.

“Yeah, cheers for the invite, mate. This party is insane!” Lance replied before introducing himself to Leon and Arthur. As it happened, Lance was studying the same teaching course Arthur had, only in a different University; and when Lance said he still needed a placement, Arthur was more than happy to pass his details along. Lance specialised in music, too.

“Ladies, this is Elyan!” Gwaine interrupted with a new friend in tow. Elyan removed his sunglasses and shook all of their hands. “He lives in Sunderland as well, oddly enough, but he’s a Bouncer and sometimes works through here.”

“Yeah I was pleased to get the night off. It seems everyone knows about this party. Mithian invited me.” Elyan nodded. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

Elyan’s accent was somewhere between being Northern, but with a hint of something similar to Arthur’s. 

“You always lived up here?” Arthur asked.

“Nah, moved here when me and my sister were kids but I seem to have picked up the accent more than her. She’s Oxford through and through until you get to her personality, she has developed a Northern reputation.” Elyan added with a wink.

“And will she be here tonight?” Gwaine asked in a none-too-subtle manner and Elyan shook his head.

“Nah she’s gone out with one of her mates. They usually go to costume competitions and stuff on Halloween… usually win as well the lucky buggers.”

Arthur nodded politely and tried to seem interested. If he was honest, he had been expecting a little more from this party. A shag, maybe? He wasn’t sure- but he needed something. After Emrys’ unexpected return to his classes, Arthur’s mind had been working overtime and what he needed was a good set of boobs to bury his face in to take his mind off things.

 

* * *

 

Almost a whole bottle of Jack Daniels and a rather repulsive amount of shots later, Arthur found himself leaping around the dancefloor, hand-in-hand with Gwaine to  _ Keep On Movin’  _ by FIVE. He’d never admit it while sober, but Arthur was a sucker for cheesy 90s classics.

When the end of the song merged into the opening of Steps’ version of  _ I Know Him So Well _ , Arthur’s hands moved to Gwaine’s waist and Gwaine threw his hands around Arthur’s neck and they swayed side to side.

“I fucking hate this song,” Gwaine sighed as he dropped his head to Arthur’s chest.

“Me and you both, mate.” Arthur lied, and Gwaine snickered before pulling his head up to shoot Arthur a curious glance.

“There’s something different about you, Pendragon. You’re all tense. You need to loosen up a little, you know?” Gwaine suggested as he took hold of Arthur’s shoulders and gave him a gentle shake.

“I know, I know. It’s just.. I dunno. You won’t judge me if I say I need a shag, will you?”

“You know I’d never judge you for that, Princess. I’m more than happy to oblige, in fact. Especially while you’re done up like this.” Gwaine answered, licking his lips teasingly.

“You disgust me.”  Arthur laughed, and then Gwaine dropped his head back to Arthur’s chest. “Let’s both have shags by the end of the night then, yeah?” Arthur added and Gwaine nodded with so much force that it knocked Arthur backwards slightly. He stumbled over his feet while  _ Sha La La _ by the Vengaboys started to play.

If it hadn’t been for that stumble, Arthur would have never laid eyes upon those boobs.

He was staring so much at that brunette dream that he didn’t even acknowledge Gwaine audibly gasping next to him. She looked absolutely  _ incredible  _ in a black lacey- was that a  _ bodysuit?! _ And those hot pants didn’t leave much to the imagination at all.

Arthur snapped out of his reverie when Gwaine blocked his vision with his hand. “Might want to close your mouth some time today, Pendragon, you don’t want dribble marks on your false tan.”

Arthur looked at Gwaine and nudged him out of the way. “Nope, I’m seizing her while I still can. No one else is getting their hands on-”

“Holy fucking  _ Christ! _ ” Gwaine actually moaned. “If that isn’t a fucking wet dream right there, I don’t know what is. Okay, here’s the plan, Pendragon; you go for her and I- Arthur?”

The plan, whatever it had been, was well and truly out of the window-because there,  _ handcuffed _ to arguably the fittest girl in the party was Emrys; only he was… he was fucking sexy as hell. Sexier than  _ her _ , in fact. Arthur should have known that she looked familiar; and he thought he’d definitely remember watching that kiss in his kitchen while he ironed… but evidently he had been paying too much attention to Emrys back then, just like he was now.

“Amazing isn’t she? I asked Gwen to come tonight, she’s in my class. I’m sure she likes me but I’m a little afraid to ask” Lance said as he approached them, his eyes firmly on where Gwen and Emrys were dancing impeccably well for two twenty-year-olds at a bouncing party. In fact, this was like something that had been choreographed for bloody Strictly- only sexier.

Even though they were cuffed together, Gwen was sliding her back up and down Emrys’ body and his hands were all over her. Their hips and feet moved in time and Arthur started to wonder what if would feel like to-

“I’ll go and ask her for you then!” Gwaine interrupted with a shit eating grin as he followed them across the room to where they were now heading for the drinks table.

“Shit.” Lance said from next to Arthur and Arthur took one look at Gwaine snaking an arm around Emrys’ hip from behind, before he turned to Lance briefly.

“Yeah. Shit” Arthur mumbled, before running back into the kitchen area where Morgana had her face in a large packet of crisps.

“Morgana, he’s here, he’s fucking here. He’s got this fucking kinky costume on as well and I can’t let him see- hell, he can’t even  _ be _ here! I’m his teacher! God, if Mithian sees him- What will I do?!” Arthur panicked before Morgana put the crisps calmly down on the bench and grabbed his wrists. 

“Listen to me, Artie.” Morgana slurred. She was even more drunk than he was. “I love you, but you’re an idiot. You obviously like the boy but either way - this is an adults party. No studentsssss allowed” she hissed and giggles. “You need to tell him to leave. Mithian could tell Gai-aius and then you’ll be in trrroouuuuubbleeee.”

She really was insufferable sometimes, but she was right. Emrys couldn’t be here, if he was caught at his teacher’s party there’d be hell on and Arthur had already broken too many rules. He gave his sister a cautious pat on the shoulder and then headed back into the living area where he just made out Emrys leading Gwaine towards the stairs.

Arthur’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach and he all but sprinted across the room.

On the way, he got caught up by Lance who pointed out that, Elyan’s sister was in fact here, and she was Gwen- and the two of them were bickering next to them about Gwen’s choice of clothing. Honestly, Arthur didn’t care. Lance could want to shag her all he liked, Arthur just had to get to Emrys.

After what felt like at least five minutes of consoling Lance about his ‘lost opportunity’ and how he ‘only got to hold her hand’, Arthur raced up the stairs; and he would recognise those grunts anywhere.

“Oh,  _ God,  _ Emrys. I’m so fucking glad I came to this party”

Arthur felt sick. He could hear them pressed against the other side of the door, and suddenly all of his fire left him. He sunk to his knees and pressed an ear to the gap between the door and the frame. 

“Mm, me too,” Arthur heard Emrys’ muffled moan and he turned so his back was against the door; and he didn’t know why but he decided to just listen.

It could have been seconds, minutes; hell it could have been half an hour of listening to lips smacking and the odd ‘Fuck’ or ‘Mmm yeah’, before Arthur realised that he was crying.

He lifted his hands to his eyes to wipe away the black, inky wetness there, and just as he was about to head back down the stairs, Gwaine’s voice interrupted.

“Did you bring anything?” he asked breathlessly between kissing noises.

“Mm, Gwen’s bag.” Emrys replied.

“Mmm, yeah. Oh  _ God  _ Emrys, that mouth should be illegal. I’m so happy Pendragon had this fucking party.”

Arthur froze where he stood and all noise from inside the room stopped.

“Pendragon?” he heard Emrys reply, and it was enough to ignite something inside of him. Emrys did not belong to Arthur by any means, but he would  _ not  _ belong to Gwaine either. Not on Arthur’s watch.

Arthur pushed open the door and Emrys looked wide-eyed between Arthur and Gwaine.

“Get out.” Arthur spat at Gwaine as he pointed to the door and Gwaine just sighed and shook his head before leaving- but not without winking at Emrys, whose lips were swollen and red and whose eyes were full of utter hatred.

Arthur gently closed the door to the large bathroom and leaned his head against it.

“Why are you here?” sneered Emrys from behind him and Arthur scrunched his eyes shut with a sigh.

“It’s my fucking party, so don’t even bother taking that tone with me. You came here looking like- like you do, and you start fucking about with my best mate,” Arthur spun around and looked straight into those grey-blue eyes. “Are you actually trying to fuck with my head? I ca-”

“Me? Fuck with  _ your  _ head?!” Emrys suddenly yelled, tears in his eyes.”Are ya fuckin’ stupid? Arthur,  _ you _ invited me to  _ your  _ house.  _ You  _ let me sleep over.  _ You  _ fucked with  _ my  _ head and had me believin’- had me fuckin’  _ stupidly _ believin’ that ya actually liked me! Then ya kicked me off the course but went crying when a didn’t come back- yeah Gaius told me. What is it, Arthur? Because I’m tired of trying not to care. I’m tired of-”

Arthur couldn’t bare it anymore. His brain was hurting, and not from the drink. Emrys was right, of course; it had been Arthur that fucked everything up. Here he was, crying over the very person he had pushed away, but he didn’t care now. He couldn’t listen any longer.

And so he did exactly what his brain, his sister and best part of his heart had told him not to, and he took Emrys’ face in his hands and took his lips with his own.

Emrys immediately reciprocated and threw his arms around Arthur’s neck and Arthur moved his hands to Emrys’ waist, where he picked him up and sat him on the counter top. He hadn’t intended it to be so filthy and so desperate, but his fingers wormed their way up Emrys’ shirt and traced the spot on Emrys’ ribs where he didn’t realise there had been a tattoo.

Emrys’ mouth found his neck and he moaned as pleasure shook through his body.

“God, Arthur. Fuckin’  _ Apollo? _ You’re trying to fucking kill me,” Emrys groaned and Arthur grinned.

“Mmm, maybe I am,” Arthur replied, his voice low with lust, and when Emrys’ lips found his own again, he noticed something new.

He pulled his head back and looked at Emrys’ partially opened mouth, inside of which was a silver stud.

“You got your tongue pierced?” Arthur gasped; and as if Emrys wasn’t already unbelievable enough…

“Yeah, do ya like it?” Emrys teased as he leaned in to lock their lips again, this time intentionally swirling his tongue around Arthur’s and fuck, if that didn’t go straight to his cock.

“How do you feel about sucking dick,  _ Emrys?” _ Arthur teased, and as quick as he had said it, Emrys had pushed him back and jumped down off the countertop.

“Oh I see,” Emrys sneered, his face unreadable.

“You see?” asked Arthur, confused and horny and slightly worried.

“Yeah. I do. Ya cannit let me sleep with Gwaine because ya can’t bare to see me with someone else, but ya just want me for the action. Yeah. That’s pretty much it, isn’t it?” Emrys replied, his voice unusually level.

“Emrys, what are-”

“No. No more of this, Arthur. I will come to your classes, but that’ll be the only time you see me. I cannit keep pretending… and don’t ya remember?” 

Remember? Arthur had no idea what Emrys was talking about at all; the only thing he  _ was _ sure of, was the knife twisting in his side.

“You aren’t gay.” 

Emrys spat out the words and Arthur heard his heart break in his chest; and as though those words didn’t burn enough, Emrys paused in the doorway before leaving and without so much as turning around, he muttered seven words that punched Arthur in the gut.

“You’re no better than Will, are you?” 

And then Arthur was alone in the bathroom wondering what the hell he had done, and why he had been such a fool.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t tell whether you’re a smart idiot or just an idiot.” Morgana sighed as she sipped at her coffee. 

“Gee, thanks.” Arthur mumbled sarcastically. “At least it’s sorted, though. Gaius is amazed by the idea of it, said they’ve never done anything like this before. He’s already put it forward to the University board and if they will finance it, then we can go!”

Arthur started hitting the keys on his macbook as he relentlessly searched through hotels, restaurants and landmarks. According to a rather pissed of Gwaine, Emrys left the party with Gwen as soon as he had left the bathroom. Arthur then abandoned his own party and headed home. Now, it was Sunday afternoon. He had a stinking hangover; and though it was 2pm, it felt like it was about 8 hours earlier.

He had been curled up under a blanket on the sofa with Morgana for maybe half an hour before he’d had the idea and immediately called Gaius. He and his class were potentially going on a three-week US holiday. Arthur had planned it; they’d spent a week in Tennessee, then Chicago; and they’d finish with New York. His class were well ahead with their work if you didn’t include Emrys, and providing the University would cover the finances, they’d be leaving on the 19th of November, and returning on the 8th of December. This would give him time to round off the units and prepare the students for their work in the new year. 

“I can’t believe you’re only doing this to avoid him, Arthur. It’s low- even for you.” Morgana didn’t tell him off, as such. Her voice was relatively steady but Arthur knew better than to think she didn’t care. 

“Yeah, well, I need some time to think, alright?” Arthur shook his head a little and pinched the bridge of his nose. Yes, Arthur had done this to avoid Emrys and it was awful, really. Due to Emrys not technically being a foreign exchange student and not actually paying for the course himself, Arthur knew he’d be excluded from the trip.

Technically, this would give Emrys time to catch up on his work and it would mean all the students were caught up with each other.

“You know,” Morgana sighed as she placed a hand atop Arthur’s. “You are really worrying me, Arthur.”

Arthur moved his macbook onto the floor with his free hand and guiltily turned to Morgana. “You don’t need to worry, I just need to forg-”

“You need to forget what, Arthur? Are you seriously not realising what is going on here? You know what, I’m not even going to tell you what I think you feel for this kid, but what I  _ will _ tell you is that you really  _ are _ an idiot.”

Morgana grasped both of Arthur’s hands now and gave them a firm shake, imploring him to see reason. “You are gay, Arthur. Or-well, I guess you’re bisexua-”

“I’m not.” Arthur intervened, immediately.

“Arthur Pendragon, you should know better than to tell me that I am wrong.” scolded Morgana. Arthur felt the sting of unshed tears in his eyes and as Morgana’s face took on a motherly expression, he let out a shaky sigh.

“Come here, Artie.” That was all she had to say for Arthur to collapse into her open arms, sobbing; and it was there he stayed whilst she stroked his hair and hummed the familiar of  _ Nuvole Bianche _ quietly under her breath.

And if Arthur could be happy about this sexuality crisis; he would be happy that his sister was there by his side through it.

“Arthur, Gaius is calling.” Morgana breathed, and Arthur nodded, wiped his eyes and smiled at his wonderful sister before accepting the skype call on his laptop.

“Ah, Arthur m’boy! They’ve already given us the go ahead!” Gaius’ voice announced, and Arthur was happy, he really was.

He’d just have to get past the guilt first. 


	18. America (A)

“Okay, so I presume everyone received my email last night, and I have some big news!” Arthur cheered. Everything was firmly set in stone now, and he was thrilled that the class were going to go to America with him. Of course he had waited until the end of class to tell them, and the students all looked up at him eagerly from their chairs, all except Emrys of course.

Arthur hadn’t been looking forward to this, but Gaius assured him that Emrys could be told after the reveal why he wasn’t allowed on the trip. Still, Arthur had felt so guilty that he had sent Emrys an email prior to class informing him that he would be excluded from any plans revealed to the class.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are going to America!”

The class seemed pleased and Arthur sat back with a proud smile as a lot of fuss broke out. He couldn’t ignore the snort from Emrys direction, and he shot him an apologetic glance. Whatever this was between them had to stop. Fair enough, Arthur had come to terms with being bi or gay or whatever the hell he was, but he absolutely could _not_ allow any more or less than a professional relationship between himself and Emrys. The kissing, the flirting, hell even the wanking over him would have to stop, _now._ But Arthur couldn’t let what had happened between them cause any friction. He’d be polite and helpful from now on, and however Emrys reacted to that was his own problem.

“Arthur, are we going to Florida? I’d kill to go to Universal Studios!” Kristen was practically bouncing in her chair with excitement and Arthur mentally kicked himself for not thinking of Florida earlier.

“Unfortunately not, but we will be seeing plenty. We are to spend the first week in Tennessee before moving to Chicago for a week. Our final week… does anyone want to guess?” teased Arthur and the class started screaming all sorts of states in his direction.

“Did someone say New York? Because we’re going to spend the last week there, guys!”

There was a huge commotion, but not huge enough for Arthur not to notice Emrys pressing down on his pencil so hard that the graphite snapped clean off. Arthur gulped before handing out letters to the class with all of the crucial information.

“Right, everyone is dismissed. Emrys, if you wouldn’t mind coming to my office in the next ten minutes, we can discuss what’s happening.”

Arthur watched as Emrys shot out of his chair and left the room so abruptly that he’d forgotten his manuscript pad. The class filtered out and Arthur picked up Emrys’ stuff, locked up the room and headed back to his office.

 

* * *

 

After making himself a coffee, Arthur took a seat at his piano. He warmed up his hands, flitting through scales, before picking up the manuscript pad that sat looking at him from the second desk chair. He knew that he shouldn’t but it was music, right? And he _was_ Emrys’ teacher at the end of the day.

He noticed that it wasn’t complete, and that there was no tempo stamp or dynamic markings. Arthur looked at his hands on the keys and then back at the music, he’d have to trust himself to set his own pace.

His fingers caressed a B minor chord, the sound haunting in the silence of the room. From there, he found a slow, steady pace and moved with grace from note to note, setting his own dynamic. This was simplistic, yet the music was full. His heart gave a leap when he crescendoed into the middle section, a major list of sorts but with a bit of a heartbreaking undertone. There was subtext to this music, different layers of emotion. He was so far into it that he hadn’t noticed that the music he was reading had stopped, and that he had carried on. His hand made a daring move into the higher octave and he toyed with the pace, eventually slowing down and mirroring the opening chords, only this time he closed with a minor plagal cadence; sending a shiver down his own spine.

“I must admit, I like unresolved endin’s a bit better; but it was nice.” Emrys stood in the doorway with a styrofoam cup in hand,his eyebrow raised at Arthur. “It was also private.”

Arthur gathered the papers and cautiously set them down on the desk before taking a seat and  muttering an apology. “I’m sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have but Emrys this is… did you write it? You must have because it’s- well it’s really bloody good.”

Emrys huffed and slumped into the chair opposite Arthur. “We’re here to talk about America, right?”

Ah yes, America.

Arthur discussed why Emrys couldn’t go, and was met with no opposition or challenge at all. Arthur would have been convinced that Emrys was totally okay with it if it weren’t for the way his eyes didn’t crinkle when he smiled, or the way his laugh sounded a little more hollow than usual.

“Okay, so while we’re away, you’ll have three weeks of independent study time. You can use that to catch up on your work, and Gaius, Mithian and I are going to give you the module guides and assessment criteria for upcoming things so you can make a head start. Mithian has been singing your praises regarding your practical work and Gaius is thrilled with you as well, so it’ll be nice to have you caught up aga8in for when we get back.”

They grinned at each other across the table.

“An' what about you?” asked Emrys, challenge in his tone.

“What about me?”

“Well, Mithian and Gaius are happy with is, what about you?” Arthur could feel Emrys’ eyes searching his own whilst he tried to think of a worthy response.

“The first piece of work I marked was your dirty dancing piece. You haven’t received high marks for no reason, Emrys. You absolutely astound me in everything that you do. Gaius and Mithian are very much session musicians. They’re fantastic at what they do, but I believe your strong point is in performing and composing. It’s not about accuracy or rules with you, it is about emotion and feeling and it is everything I stand for. Emrys, I won’t lie about being in awe of your work. If you keep it up, you’ll soar out of this year with fantastic grades.”

Emrys smirked but said no more on the subject.

“So, if the three of you are going away, how am a supposed to access the rooms-and who will a speak to about work? Obviously the time zones will have an effect so a-”

“Lance.” interrupted Arthur.

“Lance?” replied Emrys, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Lance Du’Lac. He will be student teacher starting Wednesday, and he has agreed to spend the three weeks here with you. The drama staff will let him in and out but we trust him fully, he has incredible experience and fantastic grades, You’ll get along great, I’m sure.”

Arthur’s smile was answered with a snort as Emrys playfully shook his head.

“You realise, don’t ya, that you’re asking me best friend’s boyfriend to teach me?”

Ah yes, at one point Arthur had wondered if the two of them had hit it off. He didn’t have to wonder for long, though, because as soon as he’d gotten in touch with Lance it had been all they had spoken about for a good twenty minutes. _“Oh she’s so sexy, but she’s an angel and Elyan was so understanding after I explained that my intentions weren’t to take her upstairs for a quickie” -_ yes it had been a thrilling conversation.

“He is a fine teacher, Emrys, and all the better that you get along with each other,” said Arthur as he watched the grin slowly remove itself from Emrys’ face.

“So, a won’t get into trouble, will a? For being close to him, because he’s already me friend and a don’t want it to be like- _well_ , a don’t want-”

“The University have been informed by Lance himself that you know each other. It isn’t a problem at all, and if it helps you, Gwen can even stop by during her free time to keep you company.”

Arthur watched those wrinkles crease up at the corner of Emrys’ eyes, and God was he happy to see that smile again. “You’d do that? You’d let her come here? Arthur thats.. Oh god, they are gonna be tryin' to shag under th-"

Emrys trailed off when Arthur forced a roar of a cough and waved his hands, and he could feel a smirk playing on his face no matter how much he tried to stifle it.

“I can assure you they won’t be having any sex on campus. Lance is better than that,” _Got to keep a professional front, got to treat him like a student._ “But between you and me, he seems to think she’s a virgin anyway, something about the whole leather and lace thing being a tough girl act.”

_Shit._

“HA! Yeah she isn’t a virgin. Definitely not a virgin.” Emrys giggled and Arthur eyed him with curiosity.

“I don’t know, maybe Lance is right. Maybe the whole sexy look thing _was_ just an act. Maybe it was for attention.” _Arthur stop it. Stop it._ “Anyway, how would you know? She could just be feeding you bullshit.”

Arthur took his coffee in hand while Emrys glanced up right into his eyes.

“She isn’t a virgin.” Emrys said again, and Arthur just nodded sarcastically with a muffled ‘sure’ whispered against the rim of his cup before taking a drink.

“She isn’t. A know for certain because a shagged her right before your little party.”

He hadn’t meant to choke or to spray coffee all over his monitor and keyboard, but it had happened nonetheless. It was exactly what Arthur didn’t need; images of Emrys shagging someone. Images of him holding someone- Arthur down and forcing into him, roughly, angrily and- _Jesus, stop it Arthur. Stop it._

“I thought you were gay,” and through all that was going through his head, that was what came out of his mouth, _pathetic._ “I mean, well, you are gay, aren’t you? But then you must be bi if you…”

Arthur trailed off at the victorious look on Emrys’ face and scowled without any real malice behind it at all.

“I am gay, a can assure ya. We just both needed a shag was all.” Emrys stood now and paced to the window directly behind Arthur’s seat, looking out at the car park whilst Arthur frantically tried to mop the coffee up off his desk with a tissue.

Arthur wasn’t expecting the strong arm that swung his chair around or hand that clamped over his neck in the following moments. He wasn’t expecting the radiancy in those blue eyes, pulsing with lust, or the hand that found its home over the half hard dick that lay in his jeans. “If it helps ease your mind though, a thought about you the whole time.” Emrys rasped against his ear, stubble grazing across Arthur’s cheek.

Arthur shut his eyes and parted his lips - this was how they worked, wasn’t it? Fall out, argue, kiss, ignore, fall out, argue - but nothing happened, and when Arthur opened his eyes once more, Emrys was in the doorway.

“Well thanks for speaking to me, Arthur, a feel a lot better now. A’m pleased that A’ll get to catch up on my work.” and with that, he was gone.

Arthur hadn’t even realised his coffee cup had been knocked over the desk he’d just cleaned and nor would he have cared, because his throat had closed and he couldn’t breathe and his heart was going to fucking explode.

He didn’t understand what was happening, and he didn’t want to. He just knew he had to fight the undying urge to follow Emrys to the ends of the earth.

_What is happening to me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter. Now that Christmas is done with, things are gonna get a bit more frequent again. Sorry to have kept you all waiting but real life has been a nuisance!


	19. Independent Learning Time (E)

Emrys took a long draw of his cigarette whilst he toyed with his phone. There had been 8 missed calls so far, and after seemingly understanding that Emrys didn’t want to talk to him, Will had finally sent a message instead.

 

**Will:** I truly am sorry, Merls.

 

Emrys snorted at his phone, smoke billowing from his nose and clouding in wisps around his face. It had been a week since the class had departed for their flight to America. It was strange to Emrys, that so much had happened in the short time he’d been at University and just how emotional he had been.

But then that final week before the class had left, everything had been perfect. He’d decided that he was tired of being upset, miserable, and overly emotional; and so he didn’t make much of an effort. He still spoke when he was spoken to, and he treated everyone pleasantly, regardless of how he was feeling that day. This had obviously had an impact on his relationship with Arthur, as the two of them had spent the entire week conversing during class time, joking in their meetings with Lance, and just generally being…  _ well _ , being friends. 

He thought he’d find it difficult watching his class leave him behind, but instead his classmates took turns in hugging him and promising to send pictures and messages as soon as they got there. Even Arthur had hugged him, and he had held the back of Emrys’ head before mumbling a muffled ‘I’m so sorry you can’t come, Em.’ into his shoulder.

Emrys didn’t mind though, he had hugged Arthur back and then punched him gently in the arm with a “that’s okay, just make sure you get a really obnoxious picture to cheer me up.”

SInce then, Emrys had been coming to Uni and meeting up with Lance. Every morning they’d have a coffee before heading into one of the rooms and catching up on some work. For the most part, Emrys didn’t need Lance’s help. In fact, Lance was more friendly company than anything, and frequently asked questions about Gwen. Emrys was surprised to learn that Gwen had told Lance that they’d slept together, but Lance didn’t use this against Emrys, or even seem to be phased by it at all. 

There had been a few days where they’d go into a practice room and play through a few songs, and where Gwen had come along to listen. But the nicest thing about his life seemed to be the way everything was going so smoothly.

His Mum was busy planning for work on her next cruise, which meant Emrys had a free house to look forward to. Gwen had already spoke to her Father, who had agreed that Emrys could stay with them over Christmas. Emrys was also, as promised, receiving regular updates from his classmates in the form of sporadic video calls, skype messages and emails. His favourite one so far had been the picture of Arthur (that someone must have went to some effort to take) squatting over the Statue of Liberty, as though she was sticking her torch up his ass. Liberty, indeed. 

Overall, Emrys was actually pleased. 

Or at least he had been before Will had sent that text.

“I can tell something’s bothering you, you know.” Lance said as he took a sip of his Starbucks frappuccino and it was times like those where Emrys had to remind himself that not only was Lance straight, he was also his teacher and his best friend’s boyfriend.

“Can you, now?” Emrys replied, his eyes still glued to his phone screen. 

“Boy troubles?” asked Lance and Emrys inhaled long and deep. He wasn't sure about having this conversation. The only person who understood the extent of his and Will’s relationship was Arthur and what good had that done? “So, I guess that's a yes then.”

“Look,” Emrys mumbled, stubbing out his cigarette on the University gate and watching the embers burn out before his eyes. “It really is a big mess. I love him, he loves me. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember, but he’s up in Scotland and I’m here and a lot of things have went on between us that-”

“Wait, are you talking about Will?” asked Lance, drawing Emrys’ gaze from the cigarette to meet the young man’s eyes. “As in childhood friend Will? Will Hunter?”

Emrys’ eyes grew wide and he immediately resented himself. 

“Yes, Will Hunter. Gwen tell you about him by any chance?” Emrys guessed it made sense. The three of them had been quite close, but Gwen never knew about any of this. Sometimes she looked at them as if she knew there was something, but Emrys didn’t ever dare mention what was  _ actually _ going on. 

“Yeah but she never mentioned that-  _ hang on,  _ she doesn’t know, does she?” Lance’s face softened into a sympathetic smile and Emrys felt a little bit sick. He didn’t want sympathy. 

“No she doesn’t. Like I said, it’s a big mess. I’d like to keep her from knowing too, if you don’t mind?” Emrys asked, hopeful that Lance was the nobleman Gwen made him out to be.

“It’s not my place to tell her. Though, if you feel like you want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen. I was your friend before I was your teacher, and that still stands.”

So that was how Lance ended up sat on the floor in Emrys’ little outhouse, his back against the wall as he rubbed his temples in a soothing motion.

“So, you’ve always felt like this about each other, then? And has Will always been so… so cold?” Emrys snorted at the way Lance looked like he was holding back, as though the man wanted to call Will something that was probably a lot worse.

“No he hasn’t.” Emrys replied as he tapped out a simple beat on the floor with a battered drumstick. “I guess when we got older, a bit after he rejected me, we started messing around. It was really good, but it was all he wanted. Then there were times when I wanted more, but if I so much as mentioned that I wanted to try something with another person, he’d go mad. He treats me like I’m his boyfriend but he won’t actually  _ be  _ my boyfriend. I’ve given him plenty of opportunities and he turns them all down, so I just don’t know what I’m even supposed to think. It’s a bit of a headfuck.”

Lance nodded slowly, his fingers pressed against his lips in a sign of deep thought. “Do you really want him to be your boyfriend?” Lance asked, his head tilted to the side, his expression clear of any sort of judgement.

“No… and yes. I love him, Lance, and I honestly think that if we were actually together, things would be a little better. He wouldn’t have to worry about other people because I’d be committed to him, and I feel like things would go back to the way they used to be.”

Again, Lance nodded and Emrys just wanted to know what to do. He had poured his heart out about every single thing. His and Will’s childhood, their teenage years, Will’s move to Scotland, the attack from Cenred, the more recent complications (though without the mention of Arthur); and Emrys just needed some sort of guidance. He needed to know whether to finally walk away, or if he should chase after what he’d always wanted.

“And you said he’s been calling? Has he been leaving voice messages of any sort?”

“No, just one text apologising. He seems sincere, it’s unlike him to just come out and apologise.” Emrys locked eyes with Lance then, and the student teacher dropped his hands to his lap and clasped them together.

“I think you need to keep ignoring him for now, because I think it’s making him realise what it’s like without you. It’s making him appreciate you more. I think he’ll come back to you somehow, or he’ll do something to make you realise that he really is sorry. If he doesn’t do that, say before Christmas, then you move on.”

So it would be a waiting game then. Emrys would wait for some sort of proper signal from Will, and if it didn’t occur, then he would move on. To who, or what, he wasn’t sure; but should it come to it, he would happily welcome the change.

 

* * *

 

He’d decided against going out last night, and to work instead, so this was the first Sunday morning in a while that he’d been hangover free. He’d woke a little after nine am, and stood outside in the winter chill to have a cigarette. Honestly, he lived in a pretty quiet area, away from busy streets and arsehole kids, and that’s why he was shocked when a van pulled up outside his house.

“Delivery for Merlin Smith?” a short, plump lady asked as she climbed out of the driver’s seat. 

“Er yeah, that’s me.” Emrys said, confusion in his mind. There was no post on Sundays, so unless he was about to receive a Hogwarts acceptance letter, then he shouldn’t be receiving anything. Actually- “Excuse me, but er, I haven’t even ordered anything.” he called to the woman who was now halfway inside the back of the van.

“You’re right, they’re a gift!” she called back, and Emrys got even more confused. A gift? His mind immediately went to his classmates who’d promised to send him a postcard, but a few of them  _ had _ said they’d get him a gift… but surely they’d just bring it back with them rather than paying for postage. He didn’t-

“Here we are!” the lady said, pulling out of the van and laughing when she looked at Emrys’ expression. He imagined it must have been quite the picture, a twenty-year-old young man, wearing his Game of Thrones pyjamas and a pair of untied Doc Martens, standing shell-shocked in his garden because of the fucking massive bouquet of flowers she was bringing to him.

“There we are love, he even paid extra for Sunday delivery! Definitely a keeper!”

Emrys felt blood flush to his cheeks and he hurriedly rushed to his bedroom before his Mam would wake up. He couldn’t do with her seeing him with a bunch of flowers, sender unknown. 

He rested them atop his unit and just stared at the array of Sunflowers, white lilies, and other yellow and white flowers. They were really very pretty. He almost hadn’t noticed the envelope tied with ribbon around the decorative box around the vase.

Almost.

And he knew as soon as he saw that handwriting, and the way the ‘M’ at the start of his name was scrawled in an exaggerated, cursive style. He knew they were from Will.

 

_ ‘I remember when we were in school and your Dad had brought flowers home for your Mum. You talked about it for days and days, and said that if you ever got flowers from anyone, you wanted them to be yellow and white like the daisies and dandelions on the back field. These aren’t daisies and dandelions, but I hope they’ll do. _

_ I remember you asking for flowers every year for your Birthday. You asked your Mam, your Dad, your family, your friends. You never asked me, but then you’d always said that my friendship was enough. Well, this time I want to give you more than just my friendship; and I know it isn’t your Birthday, but I hope the flowers are still welcome. _

_ I miss you Merls, dearly, and I know I have a lot to make up for. So whenever you are ready, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll be waiting, and only on your terms will I speak to you again. I just had to make sure you knew how I felt. _

_ And I can say it wholeheartedly now that I know what I am missing.  _

_ I love you, Merlin, so much. _

_ Will x’ _

 

Emrys choked back a sob and held the letter to his chest. It was dated a week ago, so Will must have sent the letter to the florists himself. That was an unusually romantic thing to do.

He read it again and again until his hands were shaking and his heart was racing in his chest.

Will loved him, he already knew that. Just this time, he’d actually admitted it to Emrys... to himself.

Emrys held the letter to his chest and smiled, a proper, true smile, and then he drifted back off to sleep to the idea that maybe things were finally, finally going right.

 

* * *

 

“So he sent you flowers, then?” Lance asked as he perched on the end of Emrys’ bed. Emrys had been staring at the flowers all week, taking care to feed them and look after them as directed. They had all blossomed two days ago, and Emrys had probably taken about forty pictures of them like a blushing high-school girl on Valentines day. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Emrys asked, brushing his fingers gently across the centre of a lily, the pollen collecting on his finger. Lance was reading through the letter and Emrys watched idly whilst he leaned in to the flowers and inhaled their earthy scent.

“So, have you called him?” Lance asked, his eyes searching Emrys’ curiously.

“I’m not sure if I should.” Emrys replied, stroking a stray leaf between his fingers. “A lot has happened between us, Lance. I’m not sure it is damage that can be undone.”

Emrys then pulled his hand away from the plant and sat next to Lance on the bed, leaning his head on Lance’s shoulder.

“You know, damage isn’t supposed to be undone. It’s supposed to be learned from, adapted, altered, replaced. You can’t change the past, Em, but neither can he. How would you feel if you weren’t given the opportunity to get over your mistakes?”

Emrys pondered that whilst he and Lance sat in silence, surrounded by each other’s warmth and friendship. It was some time before Lance actually spoke again.

“I guess, without sounding too cliché, you have to follow your heart.”

It shouldn’t have been a problem. Not in the slightest. If this entire situation had taken place months earlier, Emrys would have searched his heart, only to find Will emblazoned on every cell there. Now however, whilst most of it yearned for Will; a quieter more secluded part craved something else.

Someone else.

Gwen arrived a little after they’d finished their conversation, and the three of them watched ‘ _ Your Highness’,  _ at which they all howled with laughter. Gwen made some sideways comments comparing Emrys’ er, nether-sword she had called it, to the large and flacid dick that hung around Prince Thadeous’ neck; and Lance made some remarks about the way Gwaine would have whole-heartedly agreed with her.

They ordered kebabs and lounged in Emrys’ room, talking and laughing and singing and dancing and finally, at some ungodly hour of the morning, they all fell asleep huddled up on Emrys’ bed together.

 

* * *

 

It was Wednesday, which meant two things. It meant that it was Emrys’ final day at the uni, and he was surprisingly down about it. The last two-and-a-half weeks had been bliss. He’d caught up with his work in no time at all, and had already made a start on a few upcoming assessments. Not only that, but he had  _ finally _ had the time to work on his compositions some more.

Wednesday was also the day where Emrys told himself he would decide what to do about Will. Without uni in the way, he could dedicate the next four days to either getting over Will, or welcoming him back into his heart (not that he’d ever left, of course). The trouble was that he just didn’t know what to do. Admittedly, with Arthur and his class halfway across the world, it was a little easier for Emrys to actually think. He had spent the entire morning at uni, and the long walk home deep in thought; chewing over what would be the right thing for him.

As was usual, though, Emrys’ life wasn’t straightforward, and a series of events decided his fates for him.

“I got you a ticket for the cruise,” his Mam mumbled from the living room as he pushed in through the front door.

“What?” laughed Emrys, following her into the sitting room. It was obvious how little time he spent in the house because she’d somehow re-painted without him noticing.

“The cruise. You can hardly stay home on your own now, can you?”

“Mam, I’m twenty years old.” he replied, his body convulsing in horror when he realised that, yes, she was being bloody serious.

“Yes and still a vulnerable adult. Plus you can fill in for entertainment when the acts get unwell! You;ll be in your own cabin next door to me, and we-”

“No.”

Hunith abruptly stopped doing whatever it was she was doing with the sofa cushions and glared at Emrys. He recoiled slightly but pushed himself on. No, he was not going to go. 

“But-”

“No.”

“Merlin, I-”

“I have plans.” he stated, and closed the living room door behind him, taking an awkward seat on the sofa.

“What? Plans to be away from your Mother at Christmas?!” Hunith yelled, her cheeks darkening with an angry flush; but Emrys remained outwardly calm.

“Yes. You never seem to want to be with me otherwise, so why now? I have plans, Mam, and I won’t be cancelling them. You didn’t seem too fussed about leaving me behind before, so I don’t know what has changed.”

“You could at least be grateful” This would have been a fantastic career opportunity for-”

“So that’s what this is? You’re going to try and push me into cruise ship entertainment, knowing it isn’t what I want to do?”

“You’re good at it!” she snapped.

“Yeah, maybe. But it isn’t what I want to do.” he sneered in reply.

“Yeah? Well you’re coming whether you like it or not because you aren’t safe left alone in the house with nobody here. Anybody could-”

“I will  _ not  _  be alone!”- and there it was. He’d already decided. He’d known all along.

“What?” Hunith asked, her voice losing that cool tone and her eyebrows knitting together to eye him with question.

“I won’t be alone. My boyfriend will be here.” Emrys then bolted off the sofa and ran out to his outhouse, not chancing a glance back to where his Mother stood. He didn’t want to see her expression yet, he wasn’t ready. All he knew was that his blood pulsing through his veins sounded like thunder in his ears and he loved Will. 

God, he loved him.

He fumbled at his phone, tears dripping down over the stupid smile on his face while he dialled in Will’s number. 

_ Brrrrp Brrrrp _

_ Brrrrp Brrrrp _

“Come on, Will.”

_ Brrrrp Brrrrp _

_ Brrrrp Brrrrp _

_ Brrrrp Brrrrp _

_ “Merlin?” _

Emrys’ smile was so huge that he could feel the corners of his lips physically tearing.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

_ “Oh God, Merls,”  _ Will cried, and Emrys cried too. Neither of them said much to start with, but then Emrys heard it. It was quiet, muffled, probably not meant to be heard; but Gods, he heard it, and it was so sweet, so genuine.

_ “I love you, Merlin.” _


	20. The Christmas Meal (A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur unknowingly meets Will.

Arthur stared at his watch for a whole forty-five seconds before he actually read and processed the time. It was 1.15am. Their plane back to Manchester had been delayed, and they hadn’t got back onto University grounds until 12.30am. Mithian was supposed to stay to see the students off but Arthur could tell she’d been totally shattered. 

Instead, he sent her and Gaius off and volunteered to stay behind. It was cold, fucking freezing actually, and he knew he’d have a fair wait for a taxi at this time on a Saturday morning; so he sat on a wall near the entrance building and opened his Gmail.

He flicked back and forth through the messages he and Emrys had sent one another over the three weeks. Arthur initiated the conversation, just checking in to see that Emrys had been getting on okay with his work, and that Lance knew what he was doing. From there the conversations turned from work queries, to talks of Arthur’s PGCE last year, conversations about how Gwen and Emrys met and the odd selfie sent back and forth.

It was strange really. Since totally breaking down to Morgana and admitting that he was, at least,  _ half _ gay; he was finding all of life a little easier. He was keeping well on top of his Master’s work whilst away, skyping with his University lecturer once a week. He was happier, more free, and generally a whole lot more comfortable. Sure, he’d asked Morgana not to tell a soul for now, but just knowing that his sister was there for him, just as she always had been, was everything he needed.

This also made him ponder about Emrys. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but being away from Emrys was actually very difficult. Over the weeks before Arthur had left for New York, they had gotten close. Not in a ‘can’t keep our hands off each other’ kind of way, but in a warm, friendly and easy kind of way. Honestly, part of Arthur felt rotten for planning this trip but he had needed to get away to think.

Morgana had been right. It wasn’t technically against any rules for Arthur to be seeing Emrys; all Arthur would have to do is declare a conflict of interest with the University. So he’d made his mind up. He’d wait. He wouldn’t actively seek out Emrys in  _ that _ way. No, instead, he’d wait and let their friendship continue. If Emrys wanted more, then Arthur would provide more; and if Emrys wanted to stay friends then that was okay too. Arthur had missed his chance and that was his own fault, no one else's.

He clambered into the taxi, jet lagged, light-headed and heavy-footed. He made light chit-chat with the driver, Jim, who had the grittiest Geordie accent he had ever heard, and then when he got home, he threw his case down somewhere near the door, locked up, and navigated his way into his living room. 

After throwing himself down on the sofa like a sack of shit, he rummaged around in his inside pocket and pulled his phone back out. It was probably the tiredness telling him to do it, but he did swear he’d let Emrys know when they were home; and they  _ did _ need to have a meeting at some point during the week regarding the work Emrys had done while Arthur had been away. So it was perfectly okay to leave Emrys a voicemail, right?

Except it didn’t go through to voicemail.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, his voice muffled around the wind that could be heard around him.

“Em? Have you seen what time it is? Where on earth are you?” Arthur asked, adding an awkward laugh at the end so as not to seem too pushy.

Emrys yawned before answering.

“Jesus, didn’t realise you were me Mam,” Emrys said, sarcastically. “Don’t worry, Christian, I’m just outside me front door havin’ a tab.”

Arthur blinked in confusion. “Christian?” he asked, not quite understanding the reference.

“Typical, ‘course he hasn’t read it,” Emrys mumbled. “Aye. Christian. Mr Grey liked to know where Anastasia was at all times, ya know?”

There was a pause and Arthur actually had no idea what the hell Emrys was talking about. 

“Jesus, Arthur! Fifty Shades of Grey!” Emrys half-yelled from the other side of the phone and Arthur felt colour rushing to his cheeks. Hell, wasn’t that film all BDSM shit? Jesus, was Emrys into that stuff?

“Uhh, I was just gonna say that I need to meet up with you during the week about your work. Is Thursday okay for you?” Arthur asked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and stifling his yawn.

“Oh,” Emrys replied quietly, and Arthur’s eyebrows knitted together. “Er, actually Arthur. Wow, ha, this is weird…” Emrys trailed off and Arthur heard him sigh.

He sat up on his sofa and stuck Emrys on speakerphone. “Emrys, what’s the matter? I know I’m  your teacher but we’re friends, right?”

“We are?”

“Of course we are! You can tell me if something’s bothering you.” Arthur added.

“Well, it’s not so much that it’s botherin’ is. It just feels weird to say a guess. Would it be okay to meet after class tomorrow instead? It’s just that me boyfriend will be over on Thursday.”

Numbness.

That’s what he felt, numbness. It wasn’t pain or loss, and it wasn’t happiness for Emrys either. It was a whole load of emptiness, and he didn’t like it.

“Arthur?” Emrys asked, his voice breaking slightly.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Wh-Ah, sorry Em, er, jet lag. Er yeah, Monday’s fine. I should head to bed, yeah? See you then.”

“Yeah a guess so,” Emrys replied, the gentleness in his tone expanding the black hole in Arthur’s stomach.

“Okay, bye then,” Arthur whispered, and Emrys paused.

“Arthur?”

“Yeah?” Arthur answered, too fast.

“It was really nice of ya to call, nice to hear your voice, ya know?”

Arthur smiled, in spite of his emptiness, and he thought for a minute, he felt a bit of pain too.

“Yeah, yours too.” he added before hanging up on the call.

The sofa would be a good enough bed for the night .

 

* * *

 

 

“Well then, how is everyone this everyone this morning?”

Arthur was answered by a group of tired, but content students. He’d pushed the lesson start time forward to 10am and everyone seemed that little bit more grateful for the extra bit of sleep.

“Okay so before America, we all managed to finish the unit; which means it is time to start introducing the next one…”

Arthur had rehearsed this speech a few times before he came out of the house. He was incredibly tired, because he wasn’t sleeping. Well, actually he  _ was _ sleeping, but he was- rather pathetically- doing it on the sofa because his bed seemed big all of a sudden his sofa still smelled of-

“Has Emrys finished then?” a student asked, rousing Arthur’s thoughts from the bottomless pit that they usually only sunk into very late on a night. 

“He most certainly has,” answered Emrys, and the class said some Well Dones and some I Knew You Woulds, but Arthur kept quiet. It wasn’t that he was upset with Emrys. He absolutely wasn’t. He was pissed off, at himself. They had practically thrown themselves at each other, and Emrys had been kind, caring, funny, clever, and most importantly; he still went after Arthur even though Arthur kept declaring he was straight. 

Arthur had the opportunity back then, and he was a total prick about it. It was his own fault Emrys had moved on. His eyes trailed over the boys in the class, silently wondering if it was any of them that Em was seeing, but he soon pushed away the thought. It wouldn’t do to start judging his students.

He let his eyes trail to Emrys, who was sat in a dark green shirt, leather jacket and a pair of dark grey skinny jeans. He was toying with the stud in his lower lip when he looked back at Arthur, his pale cheeks beginning to colour a little. Arthur gave him a subtle grin, because how could he help himself? Then Emrys’ cheeks went  _ really  _ red and he looked away.

Arthur wasn’t sure why exactly Em seemed so shy today. It might have had something to do with the fact that when Arthur first arrived this morning, Emrys was already waiting. He’d given Arthur a rib-crunching hug and they shared some idle chit-chat about this, that and the other.

It had been really nice, honestly. But Arthur was convinced that really, it was just causing him to feel even more lost. He had been willing to admit his sexuality for this beautiful, crazy, young man, he was ready to fight his own conscience and anyone else who dared try to stop him. Leon, Gwaine, Gwen, Lance, Gaius- any of them

Did he not deserve a little happiness after all the work he’d put in over the past few years? After losing everyone but his truly wonderful sister? 

The lesson continued on, Arthur briefing the students on this, that and the other; and letting the students talk about their time in America. They talked about the underground bands they’d seen, restaurants they’d been to, and the argument Gaius had gotten involved in on a bus. The whole trip had been an amazing laugh.

“Arthur?” Laura asked, one of the Croatian students. 

“Yes, Laura?”

“Well… You’re the only one we haven’t told yet but we’ve arranged a night out this Saturday. We’re all going through to the restaurant bar where Em works, in Sunderland. Mith and Gaius have both said they’d come, so we just need you to come too!”

Arthur stopped for a moment. If Mith and Gaius were going that was okay. He just wouldn’t drink anything. He’d limit himself to a couple of glasses of whatever and then he’d go home. It would be fine. Totally fine.

“Oh, go on then.” he said, and the class erupted into cheers.

Before Arthur had dismissed the class, he asked Emrys to meet him at his office. He’d been dreading this conversation all weekend; but now after seeing Emrys, he didn’t feel quite as bad. He headed down to the University cafe and bought himself a large tea (with two teabags, obviously).

“Ya got enough sugar in there?” 

Arthur nearly dropped the little paper sachet into his cup.

“Fucking hell, Em, you’re like the creeping fucking Jesus! And no, actually. There’s barely any sugar in these so you need a lot. And it’s a big cup.”

Emrys grinned, his eyes creasing at the corners and his whole face glowing with pure mirth. God he was stunning.

“A mean, a know that ya need more, but a think six packets is a bit excessive. Is it not?”

Arthur couldn’t think of anything to say. He liked a lot of sugar in his tea, so what? 

“What, don’t you have any little guilty pleasures, Emrys?” Arthur asked, the hint right there between them.

But Emrys didn’t reply. Which was unusual. Emrys was always witty with stuff like that, especially if it had any flirty connotations whatsoever. But no, Emrys blushed. He  _ blushed _ , for goodness sake.

“What, are you a nun now?” Arthur asked with a nervous laugh; and Emrys’ phone buzzed in his pocket,

“Shit, two secs.” Merlin mumbled, walking out of earshot and conversing with the bloke he was obviously going out with, because he was grinning like a bloody idiot for the duration of the call.

Arthur watched him. He couldn’t help himself. It was the look of happiness, the relaxed demeanour, the easier movement, the occasional giggle. Hell, it really looked like Emrys was happy. Despite a bitter part of him feeling incredibly jealous and annoyed, he tried to find it in him to be happy for Emrys, because whoever this mystery guy was, he was obviously a keeper.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur stared down at his outstretched fingers as they lay still over the keys. He couldn’t play. It wasn’t even that his mind was on overdrive, because it wasn’t. Not at all. He just felt like he was missing something. There had always been this little flame inside of him, spurred to life by emotion and creativity and his surroundings but now, now he was clueless.

It was frustrating. He whacked his hands against the keys, causing a discordant and rather unappealing sound, before gasping at his beanie hat.

“What’s wrong?” Emrys asked from the door.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t see you. Just take a seat, Emrys,” Arthur said, taking off his hat and scarf out of muscle memory, and taking the seat behind his desk.

“Nah, there’s definitely something wrong. Am not daft. You’re a bit like me with piano. Can’t play me piano when something’s wrong, can I?.”

Arthur glared at Emrys and shook his head with an exasperated sigh.

“I guess I sort of came out to Morgana. Well… Not came out. I suppose she already knew I was- was whatever it is that I am. I just didn’t realise, I guess. But yeah, I guess I admitted it to myself.” 

There was a moment of quiet, and Emrys leaned forwards slightly, his eyes intently searching Arthur’s. Then, too quick for Arthur to pull away, Emrys reached over and placed a hand atop Arthur’s.

“Arthur, take it from someone who knows. Av known you for a very little amount of time and it was obvious that you were a little lost. Am really, really please you’ve managed to figure yourself out. And if there’s anything a can do to help… well, A’ll do me best.”

Emrys smiled that genuine, soul-ripping smile again and Arthur felt himself laugh. There was an irony in this situation, really. Arthur didn’t want to focus on this too much though. He didn’t want Emrys to realise that he may or may not have accepted all of this because of the chance he’d had. That chance was gone now.

“Thanks, Em. Erm, how have you been getting on, then?” Arthur asked, pulling his hand away. 

“Eeeee, Arthur, it’s actually been amazin’!”

Emrys told Arthur all about how quickly he finished his work, about the days where they both went back to Emrys’ house, about the nights they spent with Gwen, about the laughs they had and the things they did. It wasn’t that Arthur was jealous-he was just more annoyed, really. Annoyed at himself. If he’d just let Emrys come to America then maybe…

No.

He wouldn’t think like that. He couldn’t afford to. Arthur didn’t go after people in relationships. His Father would have never forgiven him.

“...and a might have started on the next unit… so er, a’m ahead of the class a little bit. Arthur, a know this is really cheeky of is, but a was gonna ask if a’d be allowed to take Friday off. Me boyfriend’s only in Durham from Thursday to Sunday, so a kinda want to spend as much time as possible with him, ya know?”

Arthur didn’t know, because he’d never felt so desperate to see anyone that he’d be willing to cancel his classes. Either way, it was permitted to let students miss classes over something like this. However, if Arthur didn’t let him skip the lesson, Emrys would think of it as an attack. Especially coming from Arthur…

“Emrys, it’s against the rules,” Emrys’ face contorted and he opened his mouth, ready to attack, but Arthur silenced him with a hand. “But! I’m willing to let it fly, just this once. But Emrys, don’t make a habit of skipping classes again, please.” Arthur added.

Emrys smiled, redness filling his cheeks. “Ah, thanks Arthur. Erm, looking forward to Saturday then?”

“Mmm, I can’t say I’ve ever went drinking with my own students before. I’m not sure I want to see what you all get up to, if I’m honest. Though, I presume if I do go, I’ll get to meet your boyfriend?”

Emrys flinched as though he’d just been slapped, and his eyes widened to three times their normal size.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, and Emrys just shook his head.

“Ah, I er… A might have to go out with me Mam on Saturday actually, I forgot all about it...  Anyway, doesn’t matter. A need to head off Arthur, so a’ll see you, yeah?” Emrys said, practically leaping off the chair and leaving the room with so much speed he might as well have disapparated.

Strange.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, come on, Arthur! It’ll be fun!” Mithian squeaked when they headed to their cars after classes on Thursday.

“Mith, it’s just a meal. I don’t see the point in dressing up for it. It’s a bit ridiculous,” sighed Arthur. The whole idea of the meal was slightly daunting to him. He loved a good piss up, sure. Just not with people he barely knew, and particularly not with students in a city he had never been to. 

The place they were going to was the same restaurant/gin bar that Emrys worked at. It was just across from the sea front, and it apparently had a lovely outdoor seating area that looked down over the North sea. Though, Arthur wasn’t gone on the idea considering the fact that his eyes probably wouldn’t leave Emrys all night anyway.

“Arthur,  _ all _ of the students are dressing up. You’ll be the ridiculous one if you don’t wear something nice.” Mithian said, pointing a finger between his eyes.

“You’re only saying that so that I’ll come shopping.” Arthur huffed.

“Yeah, well, no offence Arthur but you have no friends, so maybe you should start trying, yeah?”

They glared at each other for a moment, but if Arthur had learned anything from being Elena’s boyfriend, it was that a man would never win this kind of battle.

“Fine.” he grumbled, after looking down to the floor like a wounded puppy.

“Yay! We’ll go through to the metrocentre in Gateshead on Friday after work okay? Then you can get Lance to pick us up on Saturday!”

Arthur didn’t even get a chance to reply before Mithian quickly hopped into her car. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. What had he just agreed to? 

He climbed into his car, dropped his head against the steering wheel a few times and dropped Lance a message.

 

**_Arthur:_ ** _ Sorry about this mate, but I need a massive favour _

 

* * *

  
“Jesus Christ! He’s not wearing a hat, and look at those trousers! Arthur Pendragon you are smoooookiiiiiiin’!” Mithian yelled, her head, surrounded by over-done curls, dangling out of the back window of Lance’s car like a hyper spaniel. Lance shot Arthur daggers from the front.

“Shut up, Mith, you’ll disturb the neighbours.” Arthur half-shouted, half-whispered, and Mithian just snickered before pulling her head back inside.

Arthur slipped into the passenger side of the car and Lance turned his head, first glaring at Arthur with something similar to utter contempt, and then letting his eyes rake up and down ove Arthur’s outfit.

“Shit, Arthur. You’re surely not trying to pull, are you?” Lance asked, and Mithian giggled, leaning in between their seats. 

“I  _ told _ you they looked good.”

“Yeah they fucking do, fuck I’m a straight as they come but I think even I’d consider letting you suck me off if you looked like that.” Lance said, and Arthur felt colour filling his face. It was too late to back out now, they were in the damn car. 

As Lance pulled away, Arthur looked down at his clothing choice. Mithian had picked a pair of  _ very _ tight, tailored trousers in a light grey colour; which rolled up a couple of times at the bottom. He opted for a white button-down t-shirt, with very tiny, pale grey dots on; the (again, very tight)  sleeves of which cut off at Arthur’s biceps; showing his Harry Potter full sleeve in all of its glory. There were also grey braces clipped onto his trousers, and instead of fastening his grey pencil-tie  _ properly _ , like Mithian had initially requested, Arthur had chosen to leave his top two buttons undone, and merely draped the tie around his neck.

Dressed but undressed. He topped off the outfit with a new pair of tan oxford shoes, his usual selection of bands and bracelets that never, ever left his arm, messed up ‘just-shagged’ hair, and, because Mithian had asked so nicely, he’d wore his glasses instead of contacts.

It was probably too much. The shirt was far too tight and he felt as though the buttons would pop any second. The way the trousers hugged his thighs made his legs feel colder than usual, and next to Mithian, who was wearing a very long, very beautiful, black evening dress- he just felt like a bit of a tit, really.

It was a fairly long drive. They got stuck in a bit of traffic on the Motorway, then again crossing the town bridge in Sunderland. There was a pointless one-way system in place that made Arthur want to tear his eyes out, and then  _ finally _ , Lance pulled up outside a fairly large hotel, on the front of which, was the restaurant.

“Well, enjoy folks; and Arthur?” Lance grabbed Arthur until Mithian had gotten out of the car. “If she gets any more drunk than she already is, you aren’t getting a lift back. My car might not be as fancy as yours but I don’t fancy cleaning vomit out of it, alright?”

Arthur nodded and exchanged his farewells with Lance. They were about twenty minutes late, and they found the class in the heated, outside area. Everyone was there except Gaius (who had cancelled without giving any actual reason), and Emrys and his plus one.

He and Mithian greeted the students and made their way inside to the bar, where Mithian (after a word with Arthur), had ordered herself a pint of Lemonade, and upon learning that the bar was also home to a gin distillery, Arthur ordered a double citrus gin and lemonade. 

The barman filled the cup with shattered ice and lemon and lime slices, and Arthur helped himself to a paper straw before heading back outside. 

They all talked of America again, and the sea breeze combined with the warm air of the bar was a feeling Arthur had only ever felt on holiday. It seemed daft in the North East of England, of all places, but as he sat there and took in his surroundings, he started to really enjoy this place.

“Emrys, look at _you_!” Mithian whistled, and Arthur’s neck swung around so quickly to where Merlin was approaching from the bar.

Arthur should have noticed the clothes first. The tight navy blue trousers and white t-shirt that made him realise that,  _ shit _ , Emrys was more ripped than he’d thought, and the navy waistcoat and burgundy tie. Shit, shit, shit. It was even hotter because his hair was so  _ wild _ and he’d swapped his black lip studs out for silver ones and he was even wearing  _ dress _ shoes. Yes, Arthur  _ should _ have noticed all of that first, but he didn’t. He had to make himself look at that, because behind Emrys, was a fairly attractive young man in a long-sleeved, grey button-down and skinny jeans…

And they were holding hands.

Arthur forced himself to look away, then. He looked out to the sea, which was relatively calm for a winter’s evening; and the tide looked to be on it’s way out. He focused on the sounds, past the people around him. There seagulls and cars, a gentle wind and the unmistakable sound of water. 

In his mind, he accompanied the sounds with the music of Philip Wesley, whose music was a therapy to Arthur, a coping method. The gentle, relaxed notes of  _ Sweetest Dream _ playing on a loop in his eyes, behind his closed eyelids as his fingers moved up and down across his own thighs. The song was beautiful, totally and utterly beautiful. Moving like nothing else was, and Arthur was totally lost in it, and he would have stayed that way; but then a hand stilled his.

His eyes shot open, the sounds of Philip Wesley and the sea and the breeze and the birds leaving him as he made direct eye contact with the stormy blue eyes that he felt like he could lose his entire soul to. 

God he was beautiful.

“It’s nice to see ya playing again, even if it’s not on a proper piano.” Emrys said, leaning around the edge of the table, opposite Arthur. Arthur looked immediately to the empty seat next to Emrys and watched as a breathtaking, genuine smile worked its way onto this wonderful young man’s face.

“He’s went to get us drinks.” Emrys said through his smile, and Arthur couldn’t help it; it was infectious. He smiled too.

When the mystery man returned to the table, everyone went back to their own conversations, and everything was actually going well. At least for the first few hours. 

Arthur wasn’t sure what exactly had made him notice. Maybe it was because he was more fine-tuned to Emrys’ emotions and behaviour than the rest, or maybe it was because Arthur had been subconsciously watching how much Emrys’ boyfriend had been drinking, and how much Emrys  _ hadn’t _ been drinking. He hadn’t had one alcoholic drink, as far as Arthur could tell, and it was clear to Arthur that something wasn’t right when this boyfriend bloke leaned in to kiss Emrys, and Emrys almost snapped his neck in order to move away.

From that point, it became clear that Emrys wasn’t comfortable. This bloke would not leave him alone. He was getting very handsy, very touchy and Emrys looked like he was between crying and punching something; and what was even more unnerving, was that every time this bloke tried to touch Emrys, he stared at Arthur whilst doing it.

Then something clicked in Arthur’s head. How had he not noticed before? It made sense! This guy lived away from Emrys, he’d come ‘down’ from somewhere to visit, he called Emrys by his  _ proper _ name; and with the way he looked at Arthur, it seemed as though he knew _ \-  _ about  _ everything _ .

This guy was Will.

 


	21. Not My Boyfriend (E)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Emrys stared at the remains of his mushroom and falafel burger whilst the people around him had a great time. He had been so sure, so certain that it wouldn't have gone like this. When Will arrived Thursday, they spent the whole time in Emrys’ living room just talking and reminiscing and when Will physically got down on his knees and apologised with tears in his eyes, Emrys would have moved the earth for him there and then. 

Friday, after uni, they went to the cinema in Sunderland to see Bohemian Rhapsody. There were a lot of touches and brushing of knees, and sneaky groping in the back row where no one could see, and when they got home, Emrys fucked Will over the arm of the sofa, and it was amazing. 

Saturday morning, they snuggled lazily in bed and watched Dragonball, and every day had been wonderful and Emrys had been so fucking happy. The night had even been going fantastically until Will had had a few drinks. And now, here he was, grasping Emrys’ hand in a vice-like grip under the table, shooting daggers at Arthur at every given opportunity and laying on thick with the PDA- which Emrys absolutely  _ hated. _

But Will was his boyfriend right? So he was allowed to do that now. He was allowed to kiss Emrys and touch his face and nibble at his neck and grope him under the table, like he was doing right now.

“Erm,” Emrys cleared his throat a little, trying to ignore the scrutinous glare of Arthur’s stupid eyes. They could probably teach the North Sea one or two things about how to be impeccably blue. “Will… um do you want me to get a couple more drinks? I’ve ran out.” Emrys said very quietly, and Will gripped Emrys’ thigh painfully hard under the table.

“No, I’ll go. Want you to stay here out of trouble, ‘kay? Don’t like the way the barman looks at you.” Will whispered in Ermys’ ear; a threat between the two of them that would pass off as canoodling to everyone else.

“Yeah, ‘kay.” Emrys whispered back, relief temporarily washing over him when Will stumbled away from the table and inside to where there was a rather long-looking queue. He looked down at his own hands, and how they were now clasped together in his lap, like he was afraid of letting himself go. 

The last thing he was expecting, as he absentmindedly checked his watch and wondered how long they’d have to wait before going home, was his mobile phone to buzz in his pocket. He found himself thanking his lucky stars that Will was away at the bar; even more so when he read that the text was off Arthur.

 

_**Arthur:** Emrys, you probably know that I know that this is Will. I can tell something’s not right, and I’m happy to plan something to get you home if you need me to, just let me know.  _

_**Arthur:** Delete these messages before he comes back, yeah? And change my name in your contacts for now, just incase. I can see him from here and the queue is facing the other way, so he can’t see you.  _

_**Arthur:** Nothing can happen to you while we’re here, and if he’s making you uncomfortable, you find a way of signalling me, okay? _

 

Emrys read the messages twice, both times he looked at Arthur afterwards. Arthur, however, didn’t even so much as glance in his direction. Emrys looked back down at his phone, deleted the message and put the device back in his pocket. It didn’t take much to realise what this all was.

He was, admittedly, an idiot; but he wasn’t blind. Will was trying to claim him, in a possessive way and nothing more. The whole thing had been a lie. A stupid, clever lie. 

Emrys discreetly pulled his chair in, his knees clashing with Arthur’s under the table. Arthur didn’t show any signs of reaction, too busy conversing with Mithian. It was no good. Emrys couldn't pretend like this all night. He really thought he was happy.

In an act of bravery, defiance, Emrys slid his hand down his leg, letting his fingertips brush softly against Arthur’s knees. There was no response. 

Will would come back to the table and touch him, feel him, claim him and Emrys couldn't say anything. He couldn't. He looked up at Arthur desperately, waiting for their eyes to meet so he could begin his silent plea. He needed out. For the first time in his life, he was scared of Will. 

But Arthur didn't look. Emrys swallowed, shook his head and tried his best to look okay whilst stifling a sob. He  was about to give in and pull his hand away, when warm fingers entwined with his and squeezed. Arthur wasn't looking at him, but he was asking. Emrys squeezed back. 

“Hey, are we all heading out anywhere after here?” Arthur addressed the group. “Mith and I were thinking about going down to the arcade on the sea-front.”

Arthur squeezed again before saying “We'd love it if you all came?”

Arthur was going to do something. He had his back. 

 

* * *

 

“Aye. See you later, mate. Was nice meeting you!” Will slurred as he pulled Leo, one of Emrys’ classmates in for an awkward, drunken side hug. 

“Yes, you too. Have a good night, you lovebirds!” Leo winked before clambering into the taxi. 

This whole plan of Arthur's, whatever it had been, had gone totally sideways. The rest of the class were heading into town for more drinks, meaning only Emrys, Will, Arthur and Mithian were going to the arcade. Emrys felt his throat dry up as he watched the two and a half cabs drive away with all of his friends. 

He'd never been in this kind of situation. With Arthur, it had always been a battle of risks, excitement and arousal. With Will, it had been a battle of personalities and wanting different things. 

With the three of them together, it would be something else entirely. 

Arthur and Mithian were walking ahead, arms linked together. Mithian was drunk, and though Emrys had watched him drink plenty, Arthur was definitely sober. 

Emrys lit up a tab and stood side-by-side with Will, leaning up against the wall and watching the waves drawing patterns out at sea. It was a clear, still night. There were no clouds, only stars. There was no real wind, just a chilly breeze. 

Emrys missed Sunderland. He missed the sea, the people, the air and the food. Hell, he even missed the fucking awful seagulls. 

“He called us loooovebirds…” Will drawled, leaning in. Emrys took a quick drag of his cigarette, to try and deter Will, but their lips were pressed together. A hand found Emrys’ face, gasping his jaw in place whilst Will fought his tongue inside, licking into a Emrys’ mouth until he exhaled. 

Will then pulled away, exhaling the second-hand smoke and pulling Emrys’ hand to his arousal. 

“Not here, Will.” Emrys said, pulling his hand away; and he barely had time to acknowledge the anger shoot across Will’s face before he headed inside. He had to stay in Arthur's line of sight now. 

Emrys stood back and watched while Will wrestled with the bandit machines, before stumbling to the kids area of the arcade where Arthur had won Mithian a little sloth toy from the claw machine. 

Emrys couldn't help the pang of jealousy in his stomach, even if Arthur clearly wasn't attracted to Mithian at all. He wanted Arthur to win _him_ a teddy, not her. 

Will swore at the 2p machines repeatedly, and then Mithian asked Emrys if he wanted to go on the dance mats with her (which he agreed to on the basis that no one had ever beaten him on a dance mat) and they jumped around like idiots to Cascada’s  _ Everytime We Touch,  _ whilst Will and Arthur stood well away from each other. 

Emrys won, of course, and Mithian disappeared afterwards with Arthur to vomit. Emrys waited for Will to get distracted by a race car game, then watched as Arthur made a phone call. 

Soon after, Lance showed up to pick up Mithian. “Oi, Emrys where the hell was my invite?!” he called from the driver’s seat as Arthur wrestled Mithian into the back. 

“Shut up, Lance. Don't act like you haven't been shagging Gwen all night anyway.”

Lance stuck his tongue out before waving goodbye, and then he reversed back out of the narrow road. 

“Well, I'm gonna call a taxi back home if you two want to share?” Arthur asked, and he didn't address Emrys. Instead, for the first time tonight, he and Will had looked properly into each others eyes. 

Emrys watched the drunken way the emotions flittered across Will’s face. Anger at first, then confusion… Then, most unexpectedly of all, acceptance. 

“Aye mate, that'll be sound.” Will said. 

Arthur strolled over to the railing, stretching his foot through to scrape it through the sand of the beach. He made the call to the taxi company, and the three of them waited while Emrys and Will made small talk about some of the students. 

“Yeah, I mean Leo seemed-Ah  _ shit _ ! Merls, I've left my bag, two secs.”

Emrys stood, dumbfounded as Will stumbled back into the arcade in search for a bag that he hadn't even brought with him. He was probably too drunk to realise that he'd left Arthur and Emrys alone. 

The second Will was out of sight, Arthur grasped Merlin's bicep and spun him round so their faces were barely centimetres apart. 

“Emrys, what the hell were you thinking?” he asked in a hushed but aggressive tone, before shaking his head and continuing. “Fuck, after everything you told me he'd done? Emrys he's… shit he's  _ touching _ you like that and you're just letting him? Why? Fuck, how the hell am I supposed to get him away? I can't let you…”

Emrys watched as Arthur rambled through his speech, his voice broken with hurt and his expression, one of sheer helplessness. It made Emrys ache inside, that Arthur cared so much. Hell, he wasn't an idiot; he'd managed to figure out that it was probably his fault Arthur had even came out, and it didn't take a genius to know that there was still a current between them. A pull, that made Emrys look up at Arthur through his worry and his guilt. A pull, that made him close the gap between them, and press the smallest of kisses on the very tip of Arthur's lips. 

“I fucking knew.” 

Arthur stiffened up, his eyes locked with Emrys’ as Will forced an exasperated, disbelieving laugh from behind them. 

“You know, I knew I wasn't fucking good enough. Wouldn't even let me touch you back in the restaurant, and here you are fucking kissing your  _ teacher _ .”

Then there was a flurry of movement, and Emrys was pushed back, by whom he couldn't tell, and then there was a crunch and Arthur's face was bleeding. 

“You fucking  _ pervert.  _ I'll have your job for this!” Will growled out, and Emrys wasn't sure how it happened but time seemed to stand still for a fraction of a second and for the first time in a long time, his body and mind made the same decision simultaneously. 

There was another loud crack, and Will was stumbling backwards, away from Emrys’ shaking fist. 

“Merlin, you… You  _ hit _ me.” Will whispered, wiping at the blood on his mouth. 

Arthur didn't speak. Because if anything, he knew Will, and he knew that this was the last of it. For now, anyway. Instead, he turned to Arthur, who was holding the left side of his face and looking at Emrys in total awe. 

“Are you okay?” Emrys asked, pulling away Arthur's hand and looking at his split cheekbone and eyebrow. Not very nice, but nothing too serious. “Jesus, Arthur I'm so fucking sorry, if I'd known…”

“Oh, shut up, Emrys.” Arthur sighed, leaning forwards and stealing the words from Emrys’ mouth with a chaste kiss of his own. 

 

* * *

 

“What a night,” Arthur sighed. After that brief kiss, they had watched Will stumble away to the main road where a taxi soon picked him up (and Emrys assured Arthur that only he had a key to his house). They had walked down the little ramp by the arcade onto the beach, and were now sat in the damp sand with their sides firmly pressed together. Emrys looked down at their feet, where their toes dug into the sand. They must look like total wankers sat on the beach in barely-above-freezing temperatures, and wearing suits too.

Emrys huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, it’s certainly cast a new light on things.” He could barely find it in himself to even smile; because it wasn’t really funny, was it? The boy who he had loved, who he had grown up with and wanted to spend all of his life with; the boy who had grown into a distant man, but still the same boy somewhere inside. The man who had pretended, and for what? Because Emrys was finally moving forwards with his life? Because he was jealous? Emrys shook his head. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had wasted his life craving the love of a fuck-up. What mattered was that he too, was a fuck-up. Probably even more so than Will.

“If you’re thinking any of this is your fault, Emrys, then stop.” Arthur said, his eyes fixated on the vast amount of sea in front of them. He hadn’t really seen Arthur like this before. Arthur had been the strong one; the one who Emrys could find comfort in. And now, here he was. The entire left side of his face was already bruised, with dried blood all the way into where his hair was shorter at the side. His glasses were somewhere on the ground back at the arcade, no longer wearable by any standards, and as he looked out to the sea, the light of the city around them casting a shadow over his face, he looked pensive, and a little lost.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” Emrys asked, absentmindedly tracing notes into the sand with his fingertip.

“Wasn’t my fight.” Arthur replied, and they stared some more, just watching the sea roll against the shore, carrying pebbles and seaweed with it. 

He pondered on his life. What was he even doing with himself? His Dad had walked out on them over something his Mam had or hadn’t done. It was one thing to attack and then abandon his wife, but another thing completely to abandon his son, who had done no harm. Then of course his Mother had turned numb. Did what she could to get out of the house, not caring if she left Emrys behind. He’d had to endure a different man every other day, leaving his house on the mornings when his Mam thought he wasn’t awake. He’d done shit at school. Barely scraped the GCSE grades he needed to get into college, and he still never had a fucking clue. He spent a year doing a shit photography course before he ballsed up the first year and fucked off. Then he got a shit job working in a museum for a year, thanks to Will. Then, with some persuasion (or, in other terms, a threat of being kicked out) by his mother, he went to college to study music. He was good at it, and it was all easy. Other than the essays, it wasn’t even really work, It was just something he did. Then he went home and smoked and drank and shagged WIll here and there and there wasn’t much else to his life.

He just hadn’t lived.

And now, here he was; sitting with Arthur Pendragon on a beach in the city he was dragged away from. Arthur Pendragon who had no idea what it was like to grow up in the shit council estates, who had no idea what it was to have everyone he loved turn against him in one way or another.

Perfect Arthur Pendragon with his perfect sheltered life, and his perfect clothes and his perfect sister and his perfect friends and his perfect bank account; and his fucking stupid, perfect personality that made Emrys hate himself more than he ever had before, because who was he kidding?

Of course he wanted Arthur. He wanted him in every way possible; but Arthur was- well, he was Arthur.

“You know, if circumstances had been different and I wasn't your teacher, I’d like to think we could be more.” Arthur said, still not looking away from the steady ocean.

“Yeah, well. Circumstances aren’t going anywhere, Arthur. So we can’t be more.”

They both sighed, and Arthur relaxed into Emrys’ side, his head resting on Emrys’ shoulder as he inhaled deep and long.

“Why does this have to feel so right? It’s fucking killing me, Em.”

Emrys didn’t know the answer, he just knew he understood perfectly. Nothing else mattered where Arthur was concerned. For all of his perfection, he was flawed in his sense of identity and in his attractions, and Emrys liked him even more for it.

“If I say something, will you just let me say it, without interrupting?” Emrys asked, the words already forming in the forefront of his mind; clawing for an exit.

Arthur lifted his head, and turned his entire body towards Emrys, who did the same, wrapping his legs around Arthur’s. “M’kay” Arthur said, taking Emrys hand in his and tracing patterns with his thumb.

Emrys closed his eyes and breathed in. He could do this.

“I feel lost, Arthur. I feel like I don’t know who I’m supposed to be. I had these dreams of being different things when I was younger. A vet, an actor, a tattoo artist, a writer, an archaeologist, and I don’t know what the fuck happened. I just know that I have nothing anymore. I have Gwen, but she doesn’t know the ins and outs of everything, because I’m horrified to tell her. Everyone who ever  _ knew _ me has fucked me over in one way or another and I just feel like I’m wasting my life. I didn’t want to live in Durham, I didn’t want to study music, I didn’t want to lose the only person I ever loved to a twisted version of his own personality and I didn’t want to find myself feeling so fucking empty all of the fucking time. But then when I’m with you I don’t feel empty. Because for all the shit that’s happened, I can’t seem to learn my lesson. I know we can’t be together and I know it’s going to kill me seeing you so much all the damn time, but it’s the only time I ever feel anything and I-I can’t lose that.. I can’t lose it, Arthur.”

Emrys wiped at the tears that were now leaving his eyes in streams, and he sniffled and shook his head, but then when he heard a shaky sigh that wasn’t his own, he looked up to his own emotions mirrored in Arthur’s tearful eyes.

“We can be friends though, yeah?” Arthur asked, the anxiety in his tone betraying all the hope and dread he felt, and Emrys knew; because he was the one to make Arthur realise. To make Arthur find himself. “Just like you and Gwen. I can be that instead. It’s the best I can be, Em,” Arthur managed, barely stifling a sob as the two of them sat curled up with each other on the wet sand, with the weight of what could have been lingering between them. 

“Me and Gwen aren’t friends, Arthur. We’re more. We always have been.”

Arthur then squeezed Emrys’ hand and nodded to himself; his jaw clenching and his lip quivering. “Then we can be more,” he said, openly crying now and bringing himself in closer. “We just can’t be the more that we need.”

And that was that. They couldn’t be the more that they both wanted, that they both needed; that they would have been destined to live out in another life where Arthur wasn’t Arthur Pendragon, and Emrys wasn’t Merlin Emrys Smith. But they wouldn’t stay away either, because they both knew it was too much to lose. So instead, they would endure the pain of knowing that their desire was so easily within their grasp, there to grab a hold of with every class, every email, every text or phone call; and that they could never take a hold of it… Because that just wasn’t the way their lives had to go.

So they got in a taxi, and they went back to Emrys’ house where they climbed into bed without undressing, and where Arthur fell asleep, curled into Emrys’ body, his head on Emrys’ dampened chest from where he’d been crying. And Emrys waited until Arthur was asleep, before he combed his long fingers through that blonde hair, over those bruises, and everywhere else his hands could reach; and then finally, he too let himself cry.

 


	22. Two Tasks

There was a dull ache at first, somewhere in his head between his ear and his eye. Then there was pins and needles like physical static inside his arm; which faded into numbness somewhere near his wrist.

There was quiet. The odd car, a couple of birds twittering outside; and then it all hit him. There was warmth in his arms and a chest moving against his own. There was air blowing against his cheek and legs tangled with his own.

Emrys.

Emrys who had suffered a night of painful neglect at the hands of someone he thought had loved him. Emrys who, before this, had suffered a life of loss and confusion. Emrys who punched his life-long friend in the face for attacking Arthur. Emrys who had admitted and processed that they both needed more, and rejected the idea because of what it couldn’t be.

Arthur let his his eyes flutter open, to find Emrys looking right back at him; his eyes lazy with sleep and his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. They had slept in their suits, and now they were suffering for it.

“Morning.” Emrys muttered, shyly.

“Morning.” whispered Arthur, and he tried not to be distracted by the deadness in his left arm, which was buried underneath Emrys’ head, his hand curling in Emrys’ hair.

“You were stroking me hair when a woke up.” Emrys mumbled, a small smile curling on at the corner of his lips.

“And you were staring at me when I woke up.” Arthur said, returning the grin.

“A guess a was.” Emrys whispered, his eyes closing as he giggled.

Arthur too closed his eyes, and he imagined leaning in and kissing every laugh that left Emrys’ mouth. It was as close as he was going to get, after all.

“Come on then, I’d rather like my arm back.”

They shifted around each other a little awkwardly, with Emrys clambering off the bed first before Arthur.

“That looks quite nasty today mind, Arthur. Ya’v got a reet shiner.” Arthur chuckled for the first time in a while at Emrys’ accent. For some reason it seemed stronger under the tiredness of his voice.

“Yeah, well maybe people will think I’m hard, you know?” Arthur said, pacing over to Emrys’ window and looking out over the houses in the street. This was a quiet little area. Peaceful, like Arthur’s house, but with more life around. It was nice.

“Aye, when ya soft as shite, really.” Emrys answered.

“Oh, I forgot you were the hard one now, Mr once-punch Emrys.” Arthur said, turning with a teasing smile on his face; only to have Emrys’ waistcoat thrown at his head.

“Sod off, ya wanker.” he grumbled, and Arthur shook his head; the feeling of his sweaty collar rubbing against his neck.

“Erm, Emrys? Would it be okay if I maybe borrowed a shirt? I’m absolutely vile,” Arthur said, trying not to think about what he’d smell like under his clothes.

“Well, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking, you can have a shower and then yeah, I’ll find you something. I’m showering first though, okay?” Emrys asked, and Arthur nodded.

After stripping down to his trousers and shirt, Emrys wandered off out of the room, leaving Arthur to his own devices. The room was much like his own; without a great deal of personality or decoration. It was lived in, definitely, and there were hair grips on the unit and girl’s shoes on Emrys’ bedroom floor which Arthur presumed would be Gwen’s.

That’s what Arthur really craved right now. Someone who was here, physically, that he could talk to about his feelings for Emrys. He’d speak to Morgana but it’s not the same over the phone or on skype. He obviously can’t tell Leon because he flipped when he found out about Gwaine all those years ago -definitely couldn’t have that happening again. He couldn’t tell Gwaine because Gwaine was now disqualified by association; after snogging Emrys at Arthur’s party. That only left Lance (who as another teacher was an absolute no), and Percy.

He guessed he  _ could  _ tell Perce, but he always felt bad going to him with relationship stuff when he was always having troubles of his own. Arthur sat back down on Emrys’ bed, rubbing his forehead with the frustration of it. His face was sore and his eyebrow was stinging, and he wished there was a mirror somewhere so he could assess the damage. He tried not to think too much about whether Will was going to say anything or not, and he lay back on the bed feeling rather sorry for himself.

He was going to  _ have  _ to message Percy. He could quite literally hear Emrys in the shower, and knowing that all that skin was only so far away…

And he shouldn’t even be thinking like that because Emrys said himself last night that they couldn’t do this. Arthur knew they shouldn’t, that he’d be seen as a monster to his colleagues and he was honestly convinced that Gaius’s eyebrow would pull a flick-knife on him if he found out.

But he just needed advice. God he liked Emrys a lot, and he needed to know whether or not to push this. Did he want it badly enough to sacrifice everything?

He pulled out his phone.

****

_**Arthur:** What you doing for Christmas, Perce? _

_**Percival:** Well, actually mate, we were planning on coming up. You always host karaoke Christmas, and we know you’ll be alone without Morgs there… _

_**Arthur:** You’re a right bunch of girls, do you know that?  _

_**Percival:** You love it, Pendragon! Anyway, Leon was going to drive the three of us up on the Sunday, and we were going to stay until Boxing day. It was actually kind of supposed to be a surprise I think, but I’ve fucked that now… nevermind. <laughing emoji> _

_**Arthur:** Idiot. _

_**Arthur:** No, actually I’m pleased you told me. If I were to drive down on the Saturday, do you think you’d be game to come up the night before? I really want to talk to you. _

_**Percival:** Awhh, Arthur’s having lady problems! _

_**Arthur:** Yeah, something like that. Can you come up? _

_**Percival:** Well, luckily for you, I can. Don’t worry about driving all the way down though. Dad’s going to Scotland on the Saturday, so I’ll just hitch a lift. He usually stops at Scotch Corner if you can get there? _

****

Arthur loaded up google maps on his phone, and looked up Scotch Corner.

****

_**Arthur:** Spot on, mate. Let me know a rough time on the Friday, yeah? You can just sleep at mine. In fact you all might as well sleep at mine. Just make sure you bring sleeping bags or something because the only beds I have are mine and Morgana’s and I’m certainly not bunking up with any of you mingers.  _

_**Percival:** Speak for yourself, cheeky shit. _

****

Arthur grinned widely. He always felt a lot better after a chat with Perce. He was a gentle giant, and he was good through and through. He wasn’t judgemental at all, and he didn’t think with his cock (which would work to Arthur’s advantage).

“What ya smilin’ about?” Emrys asked, and Arthur dropped his phone and almost choked on his tongue when he looked up to see this unbelievable bloke stood in front of him in nothing but a fucking towel. 

“Arthur, as much as I appreciate the looks ya givin’ is right now, it wouldn’t do any good for us both to get a fuckin’ boner, would it? So, if ya’d kindly go in the shower and have a wank, I’ll stay here and try to retain some self-control. Cheers.”

Emrys fumbled in his wardrobe with his back to Arthur. His hair was wet, wild, and stuck to his face; and his torso was shining in the light of the late-morning sun. Arthur got a brief look at his tattoo again, but didn’t see it properly- because he was more attuned to Emrys’ pierced nipples.

_ Pierced fucking nipples. _

“A hope ya happy.” Emrys grumbled, turning his head and glaring. Arthur snapped back into reality, his hand quickly covering his own arousal.

“What have I done this time?” Arthur asked, worried.

“A’d show ya but a think ya’d have a heart attack… you’ve definitely seen enough of is for one day. Towels are in the cupboard in the bathroom, and there’s a spare toothbrush on the windowsill for ya.”

Arthur eyes Emrys curiously, whose cheeks were suddenly rather red. He stood up, walking across the room and hazarding a look towards Emrys’ front. He knew he shouldn’t but…

“Don’t fuckin’ look Arthur! I swear to Christ, just go!”

Arthur laughed on his way out of the room, seeing the bathroom was just next door. He heard Emrys grumbling under his breath and when he dared glance back one more time; he understood why Emrys asked him to go. The towel was tented, rather obscenely, over his groin. Arthur snapped his head back and hurried into the shower.

After some quick relief (which didn’t take long at all, and felt very wrong in the knowledge that Emrys was a room away), and a thorough wash, Arthur clambered out of the shower cubicle and stood in front of the mirrored medicine cabinet.

“Fuck.”

The left side of his face, from his forehead down to his cheek, was a blend of blue, green and purple; and, though there was no swelling, he had a lovely split on both his cheekbone and his eyebrow.

He looked like a right muppet.

He tied the towel around his waist, and made to reach for the toothbrush on the window; which was pink. Because, of course it was fucking pink.

He laughed again, cursing Emrys under his breath.

****

* * *

 

There was a moment of panic on his way back to Em’s room. He wasn’t quite ready to be seen half-naked; especially not with the big bruise he apparently had on his right side. He sucked in a breath before heading inside, but, thankfully, Emrys wasn’t in his room.

He shut the door and towelled himself off, and looked at the clothes on the bed.

His phone then pinged with a new text.

 

**_Emrys:_ ** _ They should fit. I had to have a good rake for them. Also, you’re not getting my boxers, so you’ll have to go commando. Left a bag there for your clothes as well. Text me back if anything doesn’t fit and I’ll find something else. x _

 

Arthur smirked.

 

**_Arthur:_ ** _ Cheers, but no tutu to go with the pink toothbrush? Thought you wanted me to go full fairy-princess. :P x _

 

He heard Emrys’ laughing from downstairs.

 

**_Emrys:_ ** _ Just put the fucking clothes on, clotpole. I’m making breakfast. _

 

Arthur smiled like an idiot, while pulling on the dark green tee and ripped, navy, skinny-jeans. He didn’t look too bad, and the fit was actually perfect. He went back and gathered up his suit from the bathroom, putting the clothes in the plain backpack Emrys had left. He rolled up his socks and placed them in there too, then he…

_ Shit-  _ where the fuck were his boxers?

He frantically searched the bathroom, looking all over and they genuinely weren’t anywhere to be fucking found. He went and checked the bedroom, but they weren’t in there either. He didn’t even take them off in there.

Where the fuck-

“Arthur!” Emrys shouted from downstairs.

Arthur slammed his fist against his head, wincing from the shooting pain that travelled through his bruises.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Food!” Emrys yelled, sounding like he had a mouthful himself.

Arthur had one last look around, sighed, and gave up. He just wouldn’t mention it to Emrys. He’d just think it was a pair of his own boxers and…wait, did Emrys even wear Calvin Klein's? Jesus, he was a fucking  _ idiot. _

 

* * *

 

“That was actually really fucking nice.” Arthur said, wiping his mouth with a piece of kitchen roll. Emrys had made a ‘fast fry-up’, with microwave sausages, bacon, barely-grilled tomato and eggy bread. What was even nicer, was that Emrys cooked all of that, just for Arthur.

“You sure there’s no one else hiding in here?” Arthur asked.

“Why’s it so hard to believe a’d cook for ya?” Emrys asked, and Arthur shrugged.

“Just didn’t expect it. Not when you’re only having toast.” Arthur replied, taking a drink of his tea, also made perfectly.

“Guess a figured it was the least a could do… ya did take a punch on my behalf, ya know.”

“I guess I did.” replied Arthur. 

They sat quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying the presence of each other. It was nice, to just forget about everything, even if just for a morning.

“A’m sorry, Arthur.”

Arthur looked up from the table, and saw that Emrys’ eyes were tugged down at the corners, and his expression was absolutely forlorn.

“For what?” asked Arthur, instinctively reaching over the table to take Emrys’ hand; but he wasn’t quick enough. Emrys snatched his hand away, leaving Arthur feeling stung. The atmosphere changed immediately.

“A never had to grow up oppressed for bein’ who I am. A’v never had to ‘come out’ or to ‘realise’ a’m gay, a’v always known. A understand it must take a lot of courage and heart to accept who ya are… and a think a know that it was me who-”

“Okay, Em, before we have this conversation let me get a few things straight, yeah? We both fucking know I like you,” Arthur said, subconsciously rubbing his Excalibur tattoo. “And you obviously  _ have  _ made me realise I’m gay. Yes.”

Emrys looked even more pained upon hearing it from Arthur.

“But listen to me. I do not expect anything from you. You said last night that we could be friends, yeah? I’m good with that. I just need to figure some things out, but that doesn’t include you, okay? Not unless you want it to anyway.”

Emrys considered this for a moment before replying.

“Okay.” he said, nodding to himself. “Okay, yeah. Friends.” and then he smiled.

So that was it then. Arthur’s feelings were out in the open, and they were friends.

Good.

Really, that was good.

Wasn’t it?

 

* * *

 

On Friday the 21st of December, Arthur was sat in his living room, frantically calling around all of the bars and clubs in Durham to try and find somewhere that did karaoke on Christmas Eve. He’d rang seven places so far, and was about to rip out his hair before his phone pinged in his pocket.

 

**_Group Chat: Knights of the Square Table_ **

**_Gwaine:_ ** _ Laddddsssssssss, what’s the crack with Christmas then? You found somewhere, Arthur? _

**_Leon:_ ** _ He’ll probably let us know if he does, Gwaine. No need to get impatient. _

**_Gwaine:_ ** _ What’s got your knickers in a twist, curly? You not getting any? _

**_Leon:_ ** _ I swear to God, Gwaine _

**_Arthur:_ ** _ Now, now, girls. No need to get the claws out. I’ve rang around and apparently everywhere around here is too sensible for that kind of thing. _

**_Gwaine:_ ** _ Fucking Northerners _

**_Leon:_ ** _ You tried that place you and Morgs were drinking at before? _

**_Percival:_ ** _ Do you lot ever shut up? My phone is bloody constant. _

**_Arthur:_ ** _ How do you know about that place, Leon? _

**_Gwaine:_ ** _ Yeah, curly. How dooooo you know about that place? ;) _

**_Arthur:_ ** _ Am I missing something? _

**_Leon:_ ** _ Nah mate, just Gwaine being a fucking twat because I beat him on fifa last night. You told me at Halloween when you were plastered, mate. Something about a harp and a black sambuca... _

**_Percival:_ ** _ You still play fifa? Jesus, I’m surrounded by kids. _

**_Arthur:_ ** _ Ah yes, thanks for the sickening reminder Leon. They’re a bit top-end tbh, wouldn’t expect them to host karaoke, but I guess I’ll ask. Also, Perce, I’m offended. _

 

Arthur muted the chat whilst he made the call to The Boat Club, and sure enough, the  _ did _ host Christmas Eve karaoke. What the hell were the odds?

 

**_Arthur:_ ** _ Karaoke is sorted guys. Bring your finest clothes, because we’re going OUT. _

**_Gwaine:_ ** _ YESSS LADDDDDSSSS _

**_Leon:_ ** _ Aw god, I need a good piss up.  _

**_Arthur:_ ** _ Same, mate. I desperately need to get absolutely hammered. _

**_Gwaine:_ ** _ Black Sambucas? _

**_Arthur:_ ** _ As many as you can afford to buy me sweetheart. You never know, you might be pretty after  seven or eight of them. _

**_Gwaine:_ ** _ I’m holding you to that. Always wanted to shag a Pendragon. ;) _

**_Leon:_ ** _ Right! Out! Banned until tomorrow! _

 

Arthur laughed to himself, but couldn’t help feel the nervous pang in his gut. Leon really didn’t take well to Gwaine’s ‘gay’ references, even when they were a joke. Arthur would have to tread carefully. 

To take his mind off of things, he started to plan their night, and hoped to God he would be able to find someone,  _ anyone,  _ to give him a bit of relief.

 

* * *

 

“I think I’ve fucked up, Perce.” Arthur said, his mouth dry from all of the worrying on his way to Scotch Corner.

“Wow, must be bad if you can’t wait until we get back to yours. Come on, then.”

Arthur kept his eyes on the road ahead, anxious about how to tell Percy about his situation without revealing his new-found sexuality.

“Right. I’m just gonna make it a short story and then you can ask whatever and I’ll explain, okay?” He briefly looked to Percy, who nodded with a concerned look on his face. 

“Okay. Basically, I have this student, yeah? And we had a rocky start. They were a little shit in class, and had a major attitude problem. Anyway, they were assaulted in a club and I was there and I took them back to my house because I panicked. Anyway, from there I guess we kind of had a bond, and then there was a load of emotions and the student ended up coming back to my house, Perce, and we kissed and it was fucking  _ amazing.  _ Like, I’ve never felt anything like it. And we have a bond and now that I’ve finally accepted that, the student has told me they don’t wanna try anything and I just fucking don’t know what to do. Do i keep trying or-”

Arthur swerved to the inside lane when a white van almost cut him off, and then shook his head. He wasn’t concentrating at all. 

“Fuck.” he exhaled, before glancing at Percy who was looking ahead, his eyebrows pulled together in thought.

“Well, do you want to keep trying?” he asked, and Arthur scoffed. “I’m serious. If you want something, you keep trying until you get an absolute resounding no. It sounds to me like she hasn’t given you a direct no, Arthur. You should keep trying with her, and she might be won over, yeah? Hang on- how old is she?”

Arthur almost wanted to laugh at the way Percy immediately thought it was a girl. Almost.

“Twenty, so don’t worry. Old enough for it not to be illegal; just rather frowned upon.”

Percy nodded.

“Arthur, you wouldn’t be this worked up if you didn’t really like her; and you’ve been different as of late. More involved and outgoing. It suits you, so she obviously brings out the best in you. If she wasn’t interested, then she’d tell you no.”

It was Arthur’s turn to nod. Perce was right. Arthur wanted to keep trying, and hopefully Emrys wouldn’t run from it. They’d just have to deal with all the teacher/student stuff later.

From then, Arthur had two missions. 1- Get absolutely wrecked on Christmas Eve. 2- Try and win over Emrys; and seeing as though the Christmas holidays wouldn’t be over until the second week of January, Arthur had plenty of time to plan.


	23. Christmas Eve (A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry late Christmas Eve, everyone!

“Pendragon, you sexy man, I've missed you!” Gwaine exclaimed, kissing Arthur sloppily on the lips to a lot of protest from everyone around.

“Jesus, Gwaine,” Percy laughed. “you still speak to him every day.”

“Yeah, and if you're going to kiss me, you could at least buy me a drink first.” Arthur grumbled, making a show of faux-wretching and wiping his lips. “Disgusting.” he added.

“Fat chance of that, you're fucking loaded mate, I'd never buy you a drink.” Gwaine said, slapping Arthur's cheek and then hauling his case into Arthur's living room.

“Never make me suffer a car journey alone with him again. _Never_.” Leon groaned as he pulled his case in through the hallway, tossing his keys down on the side unit next to Arthur's.

“Sorry, mate. I really needed Perce and I knew you two were working.” It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either.

“You sure it's nothing I can help with, mate?” Leon asked, his eyes narrowed with concern.

“Nah, I think I'm alright to be honest.” Two lies in thirty seconds, amazing.

“Good.” said Leon, grinning. “I thought you were gonna be caught up in some shitty romance situation.”

Arthur laughed, too loud through the fakeness of it, but Leon didn't notice.

“Nah mate, don't be daft. I don't do romance; just like to bring ‘em home and plough them.” Arthur winked. Three. No, actually, it was four. Four lies.

He swallowed down his guilt as he followed them through to the sitting room where, after greeting Perce, they all sat down to discuss their plans for the next few days. Arthur half-heartedly joined in on the conversation, his thoughts elsewhere.

After he got back from picking Percy up, they’d talked about how Arthur was going to win ‘this girl’ over. He’d decided that he’d wait until after Christmas, and let a little time pass. He’d thought about not texting Emrys, and waiting to see if he texted first, but Perce reminded him that they weren’t thirteen years old anymore, and that everyone fucking hated when people did that.

So Arthur had texted Emrys in the morning, saying he was having the lads over. Emrys replied to tell Arthur he’d been spending a lot of time with Gwen and Lance, before Lance travels down to London tomorrow.

They’d texted back and forth a few times, and though Arthur hated it, he felt giddy with the excitement of it. All he needed to do was to win Emrys over, and then that’d be it. They could just be together. Sure, they’d probably have to keep it a bit of a secret at first, but later on, once Arthur found out a way of telling Gaius without being flayed alive, they could just be themselves, and they could do it as one.

“How’s life in the North, then?” Leon asked, snapping Arthur from his train of thought.

“Boring at the minute mate. I won’t be teaching again until the 14th of January, and I’ve already finished my Master’s essay and handed it in. It’s fucking horrible being away from you all and without Morgs here I literally have _no one_ to do anything with. It’s gonna be a repeat cycle of sleep, gym, and fucking Minecraft or some shit.”

Gwaine winced, as though feeling Arthur’s pain. “You always have your right hand as well, mate; and if you’re feeling brave you have your left fingers too-”

“Gwaine!” Leon and Percy simultaneously yelled, and Arthur brought his hand to his forehead with a laugh.

“Fucking hell.” Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “I really fucking miss you all.”

“Alright, let’s not get all emotional until _after_ Christmas. I want to get my fill of the North first, quite literally.” Gwaine added with a wink and a signature hair flip earning groans from those around him.

“Well, I have an interesting night planned for us, so you never know.” Arthur grinned.

****

* * *

 

 

At around half seven-ish on Christmas Eve, Arthur stood in front of his new ceiling-to-floor mirror and grinned. He was going to go out and get absolutely ‘monged’ as the Northern lot called it, and he was apparently going to look absolutely _fine_ doing it.

The were going to The Boat Club, and though their karaoke night was a tad different, it gave everyone the perfect excuse to dress up all fancy. While the others had opted for suit-trousers and white shirts; Arthur decided to go a little different. Something more… him.

He’d made a last minute appointment to get his undercut styled earlier on today, taking the back and sides a little shorter, and having the now, very long, top of his hair professionally styled into a wild mess. His new glasses also came yesterday, similar to his older ones in thickness and colour, but with a very slightly bigger frame.

His white shirt was exceptionally thin, meaning that his tattoos were visible through the material, before appearing in full where he’d rolled up his sleeves to just-below the elbow. He adorned his new silver, diamond encrusted Rolex; a Christmas present from Morgana that arrived yesterday, at the same time as his glasses. He’d bought a brand new pair of dark blue skinny-jeans, and he opted for a skinny tie that matched his jeans in colour. He then finished the piece with a tan waistcoat and a brand new pair of tan Oxfords.

He examined his reflection again and again, noting how the bruising on his face and the slowly-healing cuts gave his a rougher edge combined with his tattoos; but he looked pretty good.

His eyes then moved from his own body, to the reflection of his drawers behind him, on top if which sat Leon’s selfie stick, and before his mind could quite catch up to him, he was sending a full-body picture of himself to Emrys.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _ <inserted image> Off out with the lads tonight and I need another set of gay eyes for a second opinion. What do you think? Xx _

 

He grimaced after sending the message, immediately regretting his decision because he probably came off as being incredibly tacky; and he wished he could just take it back-

 

 **_Emrys:_ ** _Fuck._

 

Arthur felt heat rising under his collar, and he felt both humiliated and proud.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _Is that a good ‘fuck’ or a bad ‘fuck’? xx_

 

He began to panic, knowing he should have just dressed like the rest of them. He looked like a tit, didn’t he?

 

 **_Emrys:_ ** _Take a wild guess. xx_

 **_Emrys:_ ** _By the way, we’re going out too. xx_

 **_Emrys:_ ** _ <inserted image> Like I said, guess. Xx _

 

Arthur was confused for a moment, to caught up on looking at Emrys’ mirror-picture of himself in someone else’s house-Gwen’s probably. He was too busy looking at the perfectly-styled black hair and the freshly-shaven face. The tight, dark-grey dress shirt and black pencil tie with those black jeans and-

_Fuck._

Arthur’s mind came to a physical halt and his heart thumped wildly against his chest. Emrys’ hand was- _shit,_ it was down his trousers and wrapped around his fucking _erection._ Arthur gulped and stared in disbelief, and his eyes located the empty booze bottles in the background of the picture.

Emrys was drunk.

Arthur immediately felt dirty, deleting the text and deleting the photo from his ‘automatic save’ folder. No, Emrys probably didn’t know what he was doing. He wasn’t sure how to reply, so he tried to be as nice as he good without coming across as taking advantage.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _You look really nice, Em. Have a good night xx_

 

Arthur then decided it was a good time to put his phone on silent. Hopefully Emrys wouldn’t reply while he was still drunk.

“You aren’t, by chance, expecting to see this mystery girl tonight, are you?” Percy asked leaning, with his head bend awkwardly, against the door frame. Arthur pocketed his phone and shook his head.

“Nah mate, not tonight.”

Arthur thought then, that this was absolutely fucking ridiculous. Percy was nothing if not loyal, and Arthur was bullshitting him. He;’d already told Perce about the situation, and it was all or nothing.

“Actually, Perce, would you mind coming in a sec and shutting the door?” Arthur asked, and Percy’s face contorted with worry. He gently pushed the door shut and walked forward, sitting on the edge of Arthur’s bed.

“What’s wrong, mate?” Percy asked, his voice taking on a tone of motherly concern.

“Percy, erm… this student that I like. Well, apart from being my student, they’re also-they…” Arthur sat down next to Percy and inhaled deeply, scrunching his eyes shut and feeling his pulse quicken, pumping his blood like adrenaline. “Fuck, Percy, it’s not a girl. It’s a bloke. He’s funny and witty and smart and musical and he just understands me and even though he has a fuck loads of his own problems to deal with, he’d made it apparent that he’s there for me and I really like him Perce. I really fucking like him.”

Percy looked from Arthur’s right eye to his left, and then nodded.

“Right then, and he’s said he doesn’t want to go through with a relationship, and that you should both stay friends. But you still want to win him over?” Percy asked, and Arthur looked back towards his reflection.

“You aren’t bothered?” Arthur asked, and Percy looked extremely confused.

“Bothered? That you want to win him over?”

Arthur couldn’t believe it.

“No, you idiot! That I like another bloke.” Arthur said, and Percy looked like Arthur had just slapped him.

“You honestly think after you lads helped me through the shit with Freya that I’d judge you for liking men? Did you really think that, Arthur?” Percy asked, impatient.

Arthur thought about it. _Did_ he think that? Percy was right, he’d never judge Arthur for such a thing. Arthur didn’t even think about it, he just lunged forwards on the bed, wrapping his arms around Percy’s neck and crushing him with a hug.

“You’re a big fucking idiot, Pendragon.” Percy whispered into Arthur’s hair, and they both chuckled as Percy squeezed Arthur so tight, he thought his ribs might break. “Fucking hell, you weren’t lying about the gym mate, you feel fucking toned as fuck.” Percy said, pulling away and grasping Arthur’s muscled shoulders through his shirt. “It’s a shame you won’t be seeing him tonight, even Gwaine’s going to want a piece of you.”

Arthur smirked and nodded, not in agreement but in thanks.

“You won’t tell them yet?” Arthur asked. “Not until I’m ready, anyway…” he added.

“Nah mate, not my call.” Percy smiled. “But you should hurry up mate, no bloke takes this long to get ready.” He then left the room with a wink, leaving Arthur feeling like twice the person he was before.

 

* * *

 

They had been escorted to their reserved table at The Boat Club, where an ice bucket containing four bottles of Dom Perignon 2008 stood waiting. When Arthur hosted a _proper_ gentlemen's evening with the lads, he didn’t mind splashing the cash a little.

They’d drank the bottles easy enough, and Gwaine had ordered them all a rather crippling concoction he called the ‘stonebite’. A disgusting blend of Stones and Cider that was sure to have you legless after a good few pints.

An hour in, and Gwaine and Leon were on their way to being rather merry, Percy being the giant he was, needed a little more to see him out, and Arthur was, annoyingly, still feeling very much sober.

He and Percy sat beside each other on the leather seats, observing the disgusted looks that the live band were giving Leon as he sang Sandy’s part of You’re the One that I Want. Only in his half-drunken state was he ever this easy around Gwaine.

“So, after another hour or two in here, we’ll head out around town yeah? I’m not even any where near drunk and it’s pissing me right off.” Arthur huffed, as Percy smirked next him.

“You’re a grumpy twat, do you know that? Oh hello, isn’t that the bird Lance went after at the party?”

Arthur didn’t properly process the words at first, following the line of Percy’s finger to where, sure enough, Gwen stood talking to the guitarist of the band.

“What did you think, lads? Is he fit enough to beat Olivia Newton-John?” Gwaine asked giddily, rubbing a hand through Leon’s hair, but Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off Emrys.

And apparently, Emrys couldn’t take his eyes off Arthur, either.

“Should we move onto the next bar then?” Arthur asked, earning a confused glance from Percy.

Gwaine shrugged.

“That bad, were we?” Leon asked, and Arthur nodded; not really paying attention.

“Come on, we’ll go to the club up the road. They’re apparently doing buy-one-get-one-free triples all night.” Arthur said, as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

The four of them necked the rest of their stonebites and headed towards the door. Gwaine stopped to nip to the toilet, and Arthur used the opportunity to move aside and check his phone.

 

 **_Emrys:_ ** _Stay for a few minutes? Just want to say something really quick after we’ve done out song._

 

Arthur looked across the room to where Emrys was looking in his direction, a pleading look in his eyes. Arthur nodded, and brought up his text conversation with Percival.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _I need a way to get Gwaine and Leon out for a second. Particularly Gwaine. If I nip back in and pretend I’ve forgotten something, will you make sure they wait outside for me?_

 

Arthur watched and Percy’s phone pinged, and he checked his message. He slipped his phone back into his pocket subtly and when Leon turned his head, he nodded at Arthur.

As soon as Gwaine left the toilets, they left the bar, and sure enough, after they took a few steps. Arthur spoke up.

“Shit, I think I’ve left my wallet. Two seconds, yeah?” Arthur said, quickly.

Gwaine was happy to wander off to a group of women to try and bum a cigarette, and Leon nodded and slumped against the wall.

“Aye, hurry up mate.” Percy said.

Arthur hurried back in, initially looking around frantically for Emrys before realising he was still on stage and singing Fairytale of New York with Gwen. How the hell was his voice so flexible?

Arthur waited for the song to end, sending apologetic glances back to Percy who was watching through the front door.

Then, when he loaded up his phone to scrawl through tumblr, reblogging a long post about cats, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hi,” Emrys said shyly, and Arthur smiled.

“Hi. What’s up? I really need to head off.” Arthur said, and Emrys quickly rummaged in his messenger back, bringing out a wrapped gift.

He took the gift and looked up, just in time to close his eyes and savour the feeling of soft lips against his.

“Merry Christmas, Arthur.” Emrys whispered, and then when Arthur opened his eyes, Emrys was already walking away.

He looked down at the gift again, feeling his heart swell before his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

 **_Percival:_ ** _That was the most sickening and adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Now hurry up, before Gwaine ends up shagging a lampost._

 

* * *

 

Arthur’s head was absolutely thrumming. The silence around him was deafening, and when he heard any of the lads coughing from the next room, it stabbed through his eardrums like an unexpected staccato.

He thought he remembered getting out the taxi… who paid the driver? Didn’t matter though… he wasn’t sick, and even _Percy_ was more mortal than he was.

He swayed in his bedroom, looking at himself in his mirror. He looked the same as he did when he left, but a bit more blurry, and obviously a lot more drunk. But wasn’t that great? Being drunk? He didn’t remember much after a round of tequilas in some shabby old pub, but he _did_ remember seeing Emrys and wishing he was pressed up against him all night. Wishing he was _inside_ of Emrys all night.

_Fuck._

Then there was that kiss and the present. That cute litt-

“Werezit?” he asked nobody, looking around his room so fast that his head spun, almost toppling himself over. He spotted the little present on his chest of drawers and rushed over.

‘ _Don’t open until Christmas morning.’_

Fuck. But then, technically… it _was_ Christmas morning… wasn’t it? What time was it?

He checked his watch, squinting at the silver hands and urging them to stay still long enough for his eyes to focus.

Twenty-five past four. Fucking hell.

He wondered if Emrys was still out.

He wondered if Emrys was still awake.

He wondered if Emrys was thinking of that kiss too.

Arthur picked his phone up off the bed, posing and taking a picture in the mirror, temporarily blinding himself with his flash.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _ <inserted image> Wish I’d seen ypu for longer tonihht. Can I opwn my present now? Xxxxcx _

 

The picture looked like shit. You could even see anything but the reflection of the phone flash in the mirror.

 

 **_Emrys:_ ** _ <inserted image> Jesus Christ, did you only just get home? Someone knows how to party. And no, you can't. It's only a present suited to sober Arthur. Xxxx _

 

Arthur looked at the picture, and he recognised that it was taken from a different room, with cream walls and fairy lights. Gwen. Of course. The lights were off, and the picture was only visible through the light of a small lamp illuminating the bottom of a double bed.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _Look too rough to shpw me your facee??/ :( :( xxxxxxxxxxxx_

 

He only had to wait a second before he got a reply.

 

 ** _Emrys:_** _< inserted image>_ _I think someone’s a little drunk over there. But yes, here is my happy smiling face., you bossy prat. Xxxxxxxx_

 

Arthur opened the picture, and he felt like the fucking Grinch because he _swore_ his heart grew three sizes in that very moment. Emrys must have been leaning on the window-sill, lit up my natural lighting, a grinning a huge, dazzling, toothy smile into the camera. His collar-bones and cheekbones were all lights and shadows and Arthur nearly had an aneurysm when he realised Emrys didn’t have a shirt on.

“Fucknell” he mumbled, looking at his own reflection again. He was sure his dick grew three sizes in that moment, too.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _Remember the pictyre you sent mw earlier? Really liked it, thwn seeing you when we were outt too… God Emrryyysssss xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

 

Arthur waited and waited. A minute, two, three, four-

 

 **_Emrys:_ ** _Well then, if you liked that, you’ll love this. xxxxxxxx_

 **_Emrys:_ ** _ <inserted image> _

 

Arthur brought a hand too heavy to his mouth, silencing the moan that almost managed to burst free.  The image was of Emrys’ body, taken from somewhere near his face. His entire torso was on show. His dark dusting of chest hair and his nipple stud held in his free hand. A trail of dark hair leading down, down, down to where the blanket was bunched right over his groin.

Jesus Christ, Arthur was going to die. This was the end. Death by horniness- leading cause: Merlin Emrys Smith.

He opened his camera again, making sure to turn off the flash this time. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, and cupped his rock-hard bulge through his jeans.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _ <inserted image> Fuck. _

 

_This time, the reply was almost instant._

 

 **_Emrys:_ ** _ <inserted image> show me more. _

 

Arthur almost choked. Emrys had pulled the blankets down even more, and he was wear a pair of dark-coloured boxers which were fucking impossibly tented with the strain of Emrys’ erection. Arthur nearly came right there and then.

 

He quickly fumbled with his belt, and jeans, opening them up, and pulling his boxers down just-enough, when he had an idea. How did the rhyme go? _‘The Grinch had a wonderful, awful idea’._ Yes, that was it.

He took the picture first, the well-posed picture of him, dick out in all its glory while he cupped his balls through his jeans, his eyes closed with the pleasure of it.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _ <inserted image> _

 

Then before Emrys had a chance to reply, he held the camera closer to his cock. He wanked a bit first, waiting until he was wet and ready to burst, and then he slowed down and hit record.

What Emrys didn’t know. In fact, what no one other than Elena had ever known, Arthur was about to record for Emrys’ eyes only.

He recorded the video with precision, angling the camera so you couldn’t see it at first. He tugged himself a few times, knowing he was panting loud enough for the phone to pick up and he didn’t care. Then, when he was close, so close, he turned the camera and slowed down; drawing his foreskin over the head of his dick for a moment, before ensuring the camera was focused and pulling it down, revealing his only piercing. The solitary silver stud in his Frenum. Something rather hazardous when not circumcised, but something that made oral sex so much fucking better, it was worth the risk.

He then fisted at his dick violently, until he came with nothing but a gasp. He even opened the video in an editor and added the words ‘Surprise! ;))’ when it got to the piercing part.

 

 **_Arthur:_ ** _ <inserted video> _

 

He picked up his glass from the bedside unit, feeling awfully proud of himself for that. It had been a good day. He necked the last of his drink that Gwaine had given him when they got back, or was it Leon? Didn’t matter. He sat on the bed and drank.

The drink was strong, and he winced, feeling it go straight to his head. Then he lay back and shut his eyes.

And that was it.


	24. Emrys' Christmas (E)

Gwen was a pathetic drunk, really. They’d got back an hour or so ago, and Gwen had immediately passed out. Fortunately for Emrys, Elyan was staying at his Dad’s place for Christmas, and was able to carry her up the stairs and into bed. Once he came back down, he and Emrys spoke for a while- just a general catch up before Elyan signed himself off the xbox and went up to bed. 

Emrys then grabbed two glasses of water, a slip of ibuprofen and he made sure the front door was locked before going up and sidling into Gwen’s room. 

He couldn’t help but shake his head at her, sprawled face down in the same outfit she’d been out in. He let out a small laugh, and went in the second drawer down for a nightshirt. He then set to work taking off her shoes, and pulling off her wet-look, leather leggings. She mumbled some nonsense about light bulbs and bookshelves when Emrys sat her up to pull off her Christmas jumper.

“C’mon Gwen, you’re not helping me here.” he groaned, blessing the heavens for gifting him the upper body muscles he’d spontaneously grown over the past couple of years. 

“Wossamatter?” Gwen blabbered when Emrys managed to climb behind her, and lift the Christmas jumper off over her head. Honestly this got harder every time he had to do it. 

“You’re heavy, that’s what’s the matter,” Emrys said, straining as he threw the jumper over to the washing basket whilst holding her up with one arm. “Gwen, bra time. I’d prefer it if you kept still for this bit.”

He moved quick, unclipping her bra smoothly with one hand, and saying a second prayer of thanks that is was strapless. He then wrestled the nightshirt over Gwen’s head, laughing when it got caught on one of her arms.

“Gwen!” he laughed, trying his best to be quiet as Gwen slumped this way and that.

“Mmm?” she grunted, and Emrys snorted.

“Gwen, come on; just get the sodding shirt on and you can go back to sleep!”

She nodded, still swaying but holding herself still enough for Emrys to let go of her and to pull her shirt down properly.

“There we are.” he said, and right on cue, Gwen threw herself back onto the bed, snoring instantly.

She definitely owed him for this one.

He climbed into the side nearest the window after taking off his own jeans and Christmas jumper, and faced the other way. Usually, he’d fall straight to sleep but there was far too much on his mind. So much, that he hadn’t even been able to have a drink tonight. 

Part of his mind was stuck on Arthur. He’d been horrified that he’d gone too far after sending Arthur the picture earlier on, and that he’d made it weird. He should never have sent it anyway, especially not when it was Emrys who said they couldn’t take things further. But then the kiss… Emrys only meant for it small. An act of kindness, and friendship, and more… but when he’d pulled back, Arthur had moved forwards for more. There was something about that kiss in particular. It was like they’d never kissed before.

Which meant Arthur was still interested.

But the other half of his mind, the part he was desperately suppressing, was caught on what happened while they were out shopping in the afternoon.

Gwen had received a text from Will, asking to meet up on Christmas day with them both for a gift exchange. Of course, Gwen had said it wasn’t a problem, and that they’d all meet up at Emrys’ on the afternoon. Gwen didn’t know. She didn’t know about what went on behind closed doors, and she certainly didn’t know about what had happened in more recent days. She also didn’t know about Arthur, and as her and Lance were both student teachers-and that Lance knew Arthur, it was important that they didn’t find out.

Emrys would have to tread carefully. 

Emrys stretched under the duvet, wondering where Will had been staying. He had made no attempt to come back to Emrys’ house, and he certainly hadn’t tried to speak to Emrys at all, which was highly unusual. 

He was just scrolling through facebook when the text came in.

 

**_Arthur:_ ** _ <inserted image> Wish I’d seen ypu for longer tonihht. Can I opwn my present now? Xxxxcx _

 

“Bloody fucking hell.” Emrys giggled. Trying to make out the picture, but seeing nothing other than legs and light. Arthur was obviously hammered. Emrys snapped a quick picture of the room in front of him, just-say visible in the light of the small lamp on the unit at the bottom of the bed. He sent a quick reply, and Arthur replied fast too, asking to see his face. Emrys sat up in the bed, pushing the window open and taking his cigarette box from the window. He pulled out a lighter and lit up a tab, taking along drag before shaking his head. It was Christmas for goodness sake, why the hell not?

He pulled an over-enthusiastic goofy smile, and snapped the selfie, sending it back to Arthur. He threw a few insults into the message and waited and smoked.

 

**_Arthur:_ ** _ Remember the pictyre you sent mw earlier? Really liked it, thwn seeing you when we were outt too… God Emrryyysssss xxxxxxxxxxx _

 

Emrys stilled, staring down at his screen. He could do this, couldn’t he? Arthur had proved he was interested today at The Boat Club, and now he wanted to see more pictures of Emrys. But Emrys was above sending dick pics. When that creep from college sent a picture of his tiny pecker to Gwen, he’d ranted about it for hours. He wouldn’t be a hypocrite. But he  _ could _ tease, just a little…

He pushed the blankets down, opening the curtain slightly. Gwen never even flinched, too comatose to notice a single thing. The light was hitting his torso just right, so that you could see the outlines of what muscle was there; and he shuffled a little whilst pulling his boxers right down, but not giving anything away. He remembered the way Arthur’s eyes lingered on his nipples before, and so he took a stud in his fingertips, twisting slightly to send a wave of tingling pleasure through his body. Yeah, a teasing torso picture wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

He texted Arthur, teasing, then sent the image separately. The thought of it all was making him horny as hell, and he couldn’t seem to keep his mind calm. He started imagining what Arthur would be like in bed. Would he be controlling? Submissive? Was he vanilla, or into more kinky stuff. God, what Emrys could  _ show  _ him. 

True, Emrys  _ had _ only slept with Will, but he’d done it a lot. And he was certain that what was amazing with Will, would be fucking unbelievable with Arthur.

The next text and image came through.

“Oh, shit,” Emrys whimpered, palming at his erection and rubbing his legs together. Fucking Christ, he felt like a fucking thirteen-year-old again, almost ready to blow his load in his boxers. He rushed now, not caring that Gwen was next to him, not caring he wasn’t at home, not caring that he’d said no to Arthur and not giving a single fuck about anything anymore. He kicked off the blankets, letting his legs drop apart slightly, and he looked at his own crotch, his dick fully erect in his boxers.

He took the picture, asking for more, asking for what he needed to see him through; because Arthur standing there grasping his crotch and biting his lip like the fucking perfect idiot he was, just wasn’t enough.

Then he waited, rubbing himself, playing with his balls and tugging on his nipple studs; his toes curling with the fucking heat of it all. God, he was barely even wanking and it felt better than anything had felt in ages.

Then a picture, and that was it. He grabbed himself hard and began to furiously pump his fist, turning this way and that, touching himself the way only he knew how, and he was lost in it. Lost in the pleasure of Arthur fucking Pendragon, hard and dirty and taking pictures of himself for Emrys. And normally, the whole teacher thing threw him off but now… It became a fantasy in his mind. Arthur wasn’t the one in control anymore, no. He was desperate for Emrys, he  _ wanted  _ Emrys. He  _ wanted _ his student.

And God, that felt good.

Then a tingle started in his stomach, and he could feel his whole body readying for it, tensing for it. Then his phone buzzed with a video message and he fumbled like an idiot trying to open it. He glanced at Gwen, to be sure the noise of Arthur panting down the phone wouldn’t disturb her, then he watched intently, fisting himself as Arthur did too.

Then, when Emrys thought Arthur couldn’t get any more fucking irresistible, there was a stud in his fucking dick. A fucking god damn piercing and Emrys’ head did a mental keysmash as he pushed up of the bed with his heels and came, shooting his load all over his hand and his boxers and the bed sheet. God, Gwen was going to fucking kill him. Then Arthur was coming, and Emrys watched the way Arthur’s fingers brushed through his own mess before the video ended.

He breathed heavily, sweating and shaking and buzzing with sensitivity. He found a towel near the bottom of the bed and gave everything a quick clean, before kicking off his boxers and pulling out his joggers from his bag. 

He picked up his phone, ready to reply to Arthur but his phone was dead, and quite frankly so were his balls. So he curled back around, resting an arm over Gwen’s side and cuddling into her back.

“Jus’ cuzI’mdrunk, duzzn’ mean you can wank inamabed.” Gwen mumbled, and Emrys buried his face in her back, feeling a sense of shame and guilt and hilarity.

“Good job I love you...” Gwen added, before snoring again.

“I love you too, Gwen.” Emrys said adoringly into her hair, before letting his own eyes drift closed; and imagining what it would feel like if someone what say that to him one day.

If Arthur would say that to him one day.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful, and fire is sooooo delightful!”

Emrys grinned when he awoke to the sound of Tom Thomas singing and dancing on the landing, and for the first time in a few years, he felt excited that it was Christmas morning.

“Gwen!” he said, sitting up and hitting Gwen on the arm; noticing that her glass was empty, and that the ibuprofen slip had been broken into. “Get up!” he added, urgently.

There was a rapping on the door.

“Oi, you two! Christmas morning waits for no one, not even the hung-over!” Tom called through the door, and Emrys smiled even wider. 

“Gwen!” he yelled, picking up his pillow and smacking her in the head, causing her to fumble in panic and roll off the bed.

Laughter ensued from the two of them, before Gwen dove back onto the bed, tickling Emrys before hugging him tight. “Merry Christmas, you absolute tit.” Gwen chimed, and Emrys kissed her forehead.

“And Merry Christmas to you too!”

Emrys climbed out of the bed and pulled a clean Christmas jumper from his bag. Bright blue with a snowman on the front, whose buttons lit-up when you pressed his nose, and he sang frosty the snowman. There was no judgement in the Thomas household, and he observed his reflection in the mirror. Incredibly messy black hair and piercings, as ‘emo’ as they come, paired with grey jogger bottoms, red and green, stripy elf socks, and a silly Christmas Jumper. 

God, he looked fucking stupid, but it was great.

“So then,” Gwen said, causing Emrys to turn around and admire her pink, fluffy penguin jumper and black pyjama bottoms. What a pair. “You gonna tell me who you were wanking over last night?”

Fucking hell, had he really forgotten that easily? He had, though, hadn’t he? He was awake as daft o’clock, wanking with Arthur over the phone, which dick pics and videos and piercings and-

“Oh, God!” Gwen laughed, pointing at Emrys’ joggers, which were slowly beginning to rise.

“Well, you brought it up!” he accused, covering himself. God, he was worked up. “And no, I’m not. He’s for my eyes, and my eyes only; until I say so.”

Gwen observed him for a minute. Her eyes travelling from his eyes, to his groin, to the towel on the floor, then to the bedsheets on Emrys’ side.

“You dirty bastard,” she smirked. “It’s a good job it’s Christmas, Em, or I’d be asking serious questions!”

 

* * *

 

Emrys had always fell right into place in the Thomas household. Elyan was a few years older than them, but he was friendly, protective, and very much like a brother to Emrys. Then there was Tom. Emrys considered his relationship with Tom as being complicated, though Tom was none the wiser about it.

Gwen had such a close bond with her Father, that he knew almost as much about Emrys’ life as Gwen did. Thankfully, he was a lovely person; and many times he offered to allow Emrys to move in. 

He probably would’ve done, but that horrible part of himself that he hated wouldn’t allow it; because he didn’t want to live with a perfect Father. Not when his own was an abusive piece of shit that ruined his life by ruining his Mam. 

But he was happy to be here now, sat around the dining table with a stupid, pink cracker hat on his head, stuffing his face with honey-roast parsnips and garlic potato dauphinoise. He appreciated that Tom made him a vegetarian Christmas dinner. Even his own mother didn’t do that.

He ate food, drank port, and laughed at the terrible list of joked that Elyan had gathered over the years in the ‘Christmas joke tin’ Tom had kept in the decorations box. 

“Okay, presents!” Tom exclaimed, running into the sitting room and diving at the wrapped gifts under the tree. There was nothing more excitable than a Tom Thomas on Christmas morning.

They exchanged presents, with Emrys feeling overwhelmed when Tom gave him an entire sack full of gifts from them all. There were Vinyl records, sheet music, a personalised a4 manuscript pad with leather binding (from Gwen of course), a tattoo voucher from Elyan and an envelope with £100 inside. He gaped at them, feeling absolutely undeserving of the love this family showed him; and he tearfully said his thanks while they too opened their gifts.

He’d gotten Tom an elf onesie, complete with hat and jingle bells; which Tom demanded that he change into straight away. He’d bought Elyan a steam voucher and a personalised SAFC club shirt, much to Gwen’s disapproval (as she still supported their home team, Arsenal).

“Oh, Em!” Gwen squeaked, her eyes wide when she peered into the little jewellery box that she’d pulled from her gift bag.

“Well,” Emrys said, feeling a little embarrassed now for buying this gift. “You have Lance now, and you two seem quite serious. So, before he splashes the cash and buys you a ring, I wanted to get there first.” He shuffled across the floor, taking the box from her hand, and taking out the small, rose gold ring. It was encrusted with a swirl of silver Swarovski crystals and it cost him a fucking fortune. “Do you mind?” he asked, and she shook her head, tears in her eyes.

He pulled the little ring from the box, and placed it gently onto her right pinky finger.

“We always pinky promised we’d stay friends forever, yeah? So this is just for extra clarification.” He said, softly. 

“Oh, Em.” Gwen whispered, and she lunged forwards, crushing him in a huge hug that hurt his ribs and smelled of Christmas food and day-old alcohol. 

 

* * *

 

He’d just finished getting his bag together when Gwen’s phone pinged.

“Oh, it’s Will. Says he’ll meet us at yours at about 3ish. I need to grab his present, two seconds.” Gwen said, before shooting out of her room.

Emrys’ throat felt dry, and something just wasn’t right about it all. Why would Will go to Emrys’ house without so much as texting him or apologising?

Either way, Emrys had to go through with it now. So they headed into Elyan's car, and talked about Christmas and Sunderland and Uni and everything else they ever talked about; until Elyan pulled up at Emrys’ front door.

And sure enough, Will was sat on the front door step, waiting.

“Merry Christmas, Will!” Gwen shouted out of the window, hurrying to clamber out of the car.

“I’ll be back in an hour, Gwen! Don’t get pissed again!” Elyan shouted after her while Emrys shut the car door behind him. “See you later, Em’. It was nice having you over.” Elyan smiled through his window.

“Thanks mate, for everything. I’ve had a lovely Christmas.” Emrys said, before pacing up the drive and rummaging in his pocket for his keys. 

“Merls!” came an unexpected cheerful shout, and Emrys was squeezed into an all-out, proper cuddle from Will.

“Erm, Hi.” Emrys replied, all of a sudden not able to cuddle Will back. It just didn’t feel right.

Emrys opened the door, and let them inside. They all agreed that having tea would be rather more sensible than getting drunk, and they exchanged presents. As usual, Gwen got Will some sci-fi books and novelty shit, and Will got her some Lush Cosmetics stuff, DVDs and chocolates. 

Emrys passed Will his gift, watching awkwardly as Will opened it. Emrys had bought it when they were ‘together’ and had put it away. He hadn’t planned on giving it to Will, and not had he even planned on seeing Will in his house in the near future. But here they were, and his gift was open in his hands.

Emrys watched Will’s face. It was very still, with little sign of emotion to the regular eye. But Emrys wasn’t the regular eye, and he saw the little jaw twitch and the way Will blinked too quickly. He saw the way his knuckles whitened and his feet turned in.

What Will was holding, was a black, glossy frame, containing a picture from Will’s 9th birthday party, in which Will and Emrys were stood, hand-in-hand.

It wasn’t an expensive gift, but it had meant something when he’d put it together. And now, Will was there, looking at it; and Emrys could see that it was like a kick to the teeth.

“Go on then, Em, open yours!” Gwen said, sipping her tea and flapping her free hand excitedly.

What on earth would Will have even given him, after not speaking to him since  _ that _ night?

He pulled open the gold wrapping paper, revealing a special-ed CD. I-Empire, by Angels and Airwaves… but he already had this CD. 

He eyed Will curiously, then when Will raised an eyebrow, Emrys took off the film wrapping and opened out the cd case.

If it was meant to be endearing, or romantic, or flirtatious… it wasn’t.

Inside of the CD case, was a post it note, with the words ‘YOU’RE MINE, REMEMBER THAT’ scrawled across it in thick, bold letters.

Emrys forced a smile, all of a sudden feeling a fear he had never felt before. He’d been polite to Will, letting him come here after everything; and now it was proving to be a mistake.

He snapped the CD shut and thanked Will for his gift. Then he picked up his phone from where it was charging, and realised he had an unread email from Arthur.

 

_ <from:  _ [ _ arthur.pendragon@durham.ac.uk _ ](mailto:arthur.pendragon@durham.ac.uk) _ > _

_ Subject: Progress Meeting _

_ Hello Emrys, and Merry Christmas. _

_ I was wondering whether you would be available tomorrow or Thursday to discuss recent events and your outstanding work. _

_ Best Wishes, _

_ Arthur. _

 

“I bet that’s him, is it?” Will snarled, pulling Emrys from the email.

“What?” Emrys answered, suddenly feeling a little big for his boots.

“That’s him, isn’t it? It’s Pendragon! I can tell by the disgusting smile on your face.”

“Oi!” Gwen shouted, looking between the two of them.

“Oh you didn’t tell her, did you? ‘Course you didn’t, because she’d a fucking teacher as well! She knows it’s perverted!”

“Oh, fuck off, Will! He’s a hundred times the person you’ll ever be, and you’re just fucking jealous that it’s not you I’m sniffing up to. Seriously, if you’re here to be a dick, then fuck off!” Emrys shouted, his voice sounding alien to his own mind.

“Just fucking wait, Merlin. Wait ‘til they all find out. I hope they do, because he deserves to lose his job. Arthur perfect Pendragon. You only want him for his money,” spat Will as he stormed out of the front door, leaving Emrys fuming, and Gwen in a state of anger and confusion.

“Explain. Now.” she said, stern.

And so he did. He explained everything, from his past relationship with Will, and the ins and outs of it all, and then he talked about Arthur. Everything, from start to finish (except the dick pics, obviously), to the feelings he thought he had.

It was the first proper fight they’d had in years. Gwen was shouting at him for not confiding in her, and he was shouting at her for not understanding. She told him he had to stop this business with Arthur, and he refused, because why should he? Fuck that!

And so when Elyan pulled up, and Gwen stormed out without so much as a second glance; Emrys immediately burst into tears.

He didn’t think twice before calling Arthur.

 


	25. Arthur's Christmas (A)

There was a fucking horrible ache behind Arthur’s eyes when he awoke to the festive sound of loud vomiting being emitted from his bathroom. The sound alone was enough to make his stomach churn, and Arthur groaned, coughing at the dryness in his throat. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with Perce, then had his legs trampled on by a fucking wooly mammoth.  

He tried to lift his right arm to scratch his back, but the pins and needles there had other ideas, and so when he lifted his left and felt a crustiness between his fingers; he winced and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.

God almighty, he always cleaned himself up after a wank. He must have been fucking intoxicated.

But of course he was. The earlier parts of the night came flooding back, with the kiss with Emrys and the tequilas and Leon spewing in a bin and Arthur swore he could remember dancing provocatively with Gwaine on the dancefloor.

“Fuck,” he croaked, pushing his hands to his ears when he heard Percy’s tone-deaf and loud voice carrying up the stairs.

“Chriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiistmaaaaaaaas Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime! Don’t let the beeeeeeellllllllsss eeeeeeeennndddd!”

“Fuck.” he said again, pushing his face hard into his pillow before shaking his head. He had to get up; it was Christmas for goodness sake. What time even was it?

He reached for his phone, whimpering when the light hit his over-sensitive eyes. 11:46 am. He hadn’t slept this late in ages.

He quickly unlocked his phone with the intention of texting Morgana, but the thought was somewhere far from his mind when he realised he was looking at a still of a video, and that was _his_ dick.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck fuckity wankering buggery fuck.

He looked through partly-closed eyes as he pressed play, immediately stopping the video again at the sounds of his own voice panting and groaning. God, what the fuck.

He exited the video screen, and his eyes were drawn to the name at the top of his messages.

Emrys.

“Oh, fucking hell,” he whispered, shaking now as he warily scrolled up through the messages. God, he’s fucking gotten pissed as a fart and started sending Emrys dick pics. He’d been gay all of ten seconds and now he was flaunting his damn dick ring around like it was the fucking England flag. But then, reading back, he found the pictures that Emrys had send to him.

God.

He felt hot all of a sudden. Hot, flushed, embarrassed, and filthy. He was looking at another blokes dick (through his boxers, albeit), and all the while his friends were mere metres away.

He closed the conversation, making a mental note to go back to it later on, and he pushed himself from the bed. He did his best to ignore the dizziness and the lurching in his stomach, and he quickly removed his clothes, grimacing at the dried mess in his boxers.

Disgusting.

Arthur stuck his head out of the bedroom door, double-checking that there was noone there before he did the naked mile to the bathroom, where he hopped in the shower. There really was nothing like scorching off a layer of skin or two when you were hungover and covered in your own semen.

“Alexa?” he called, waiting for the responding beep from the bathroom speaker, “play Love: Part Two.”

“Now playing: Angels and Airwaves, Love: Part Two.”

Arthur began to wash himself to the opening synth sounds of Saturday Love, washing his hair first, then scrubbing his skin; washing away any physical reminders of the night before.

“Should maybe get a shower curtain that isn’t see-through, mate.” Gwaine then called, above the loud music,

“Fuck! A-Alexa! Stop! Gwaine, what the fuck?!” Arthur said, turning his back, but then realising his arse would be on show, so turning around again and cupping whatever was left of his dignity.

“Christ, Pendragon, it’s not like I haven’t seen a cock before.” Gwaine said, sighing at the relief of having a piss while Arthur stood gaping under the hot stream of water.

“Not mine, you prick!” Arthur yelled, not knowing whether to feel pissed off, embarrassed or a little but amused at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Well, I have now. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t say it’s unimpressive.” Gwaine added, winking while he washed his hands, sending the water that was cascading down Arthur’s back, about five hundred degrees hotter.

“Fuck! Fuck off, Gwaine!” Arthur called, leaping out of the water and out into the open, behind the shower curtain.

“Fucking hell, impressive everything actually. Really is a shame you aren’t gay, princess.” Gwaine said, quickly moving out of the bathroom when Arthur picked up a shampoo bottle and launched it at the door.

“TWAT!” Arthur called, turning off the shower.

“Merry Christmas to you too, sweetie!” Gwaine called back from somewhere outside.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

****

* * *

 

“Perce I love you so much right now, mate.” said Leon, ripping into a sausage and tomato stottie and moaning like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“I daresay I can cut out the green shit on Christmas day. How’s everyone, then?” Percy asked, his eyes falling on Arthur in particular. Leon and Gwaine both groaned, much preferring to eat than talk, and Arthur smiled subtly with a mouthful of fried egg sandwich.

“I feel like I’ve come out on the worse end of a mincer if I’m honest, but I’ll live.” said Arthur, and Percy nodded his head. That _was_ what Arthur had wanted in the first place, wasn’t it? To get absolutely mangled; and he had. So, mission accomplished then.

“You even came home with a Christmas present, Arthur.” Leon said, looking at his stottie like he was going to snog it. “Wouldn’t let anyone touch it in the taxi. You said it was yours and that we had to keep our grubby fingers off it.”

Arthur blushed a little, embarrassed, but then thought better of being the victim. He’d totally forgotten about the present this morning, because he’d been too caught up on thinking of the kiss. “You’re just jealous I got a present at all.” Arthur remarked, and Leon snorted.

“Mmm, speaking of presents,” Gwaine chimed in, “we should probably exchange ours.”

The four of them did Christmas presents in a certain way. Rather than each buying a different present for each other, they’d group together as a three, and buy presents together.

“Come on, then.” said Percy, wolfing down the last of his bacon and sausage sandwich. “Who’s first?” he asked as they headed into the living area and Percy sat on the floor by the Christmas tree.

“Leon,” said Arthur and Gwaine at the same time.

“Leon it is, then.” grinned Percy, waiting for Leon to sit in the armchair. Percy picked up the envelope from the floor, and passed it to Leon, who eyed them all curiously.

He opened the posh wax seal, and pulled a ticket and a letter.

“Shut the fuck up.” Leon whispered, pulling down the letter to gape at them all.

“Percy’s idea,” said Gwaine, picking at his teeth with his finger. “We figured it was a good one.”

None of the lads were particularly poor. Leon worked for Marco Pierre White, in his main London branch; and also had a shit ton of money through his Father, who worked abroad. Percy was a non-stop personal-trainer, but he PT’d a lot of footballers, rugby players, swimmers, gymnasts, actors; and he was very-well sought after. He also had a rather pleasant social media following, and a few books on exercise regimes and healthy dieting. Gwaine, which was the biggest surprise to them all, was a very successful car salesman for Aston Martin. He was quite literally swimming in money; but none of them were as rich as Arthur.

None of that mattered, though. They always chipped in equally and generously for these gifts, and Leon’s was a week-long course, cooking with Gordon Ramsay himself.

“Fucking hell, I might cry.” Leon said, and Percy snorted.

“No sentiments please, I’m too hungover for that shit.  I opt for Gwaine next.” said Percy, not waiting for a response before handing Gwaine his envelope.

Arthur grinned in anticipation, and they all cheered when Gwaine rocketed off the sofa after reading that they had secured him (and a plus one) VIP, all-access passes to download festival this year; glamping accommodation paid for.

“You fucking _beautiful_ wankers!” he said, walking around to kiss them all on the head.

“Alright you big girl,” Arthur said, wiping at his forehead. “I say do me next because I want Perce to be last.”

“You can’t nominate yourself!” argued Perce but then Leon lifted a hand.

“No, he’s right Perce. You’re going last.” Leon said, and Percy scowled, though there was no malice in it.

Arthur took the envelope from Percy’s hand.

“Gwaine’s idea.” Percy smiled, and Arthur grimaced.

He opened the seal of the envelope carefully, and when he pulled the several sheets of paper out, a load of sequins fell onto his floor.

“You fucking tit, Gwaine.” Arthur laughed, taking care to open the papers and try and make sense of what they all said.

“So we know you adore York, so we’ve booked you and a plus one a week stay there, all paid for, and there a little… just there!” Gwaine said excitedly, watching as Arthur picked up a little black slip.

It was a voucher for £500 for a piercing and tattoo shop in York.

“It’s been rated the best one in York for a few years now, and we figured you’d think of something you’d want in there. All coinciding with the school summer holidays, of course.” Leon said, and Arthur’s grin took over his face. Not because of the tattoo voucher or the idea in general of going to York, but because there was a plus one ticket.

He could take Emrys.

“I’m a bit scared to open mine, now.” Percy admitted, turning the envelope in his hands. “Arthur’s idea?” he asked.

“What gave it away?” Arthur asked, his grin unmoving.

“Couldn’t have been the massive gryffindor wax seal on the back, could it Perce?” Gwaine asked with a wink, to which Arthur stuck out his tongue.

They watched, impatient, as Percy opened the envelope and read through the legal documents and receipts. Then, when he finally looked up at them, Arthur threw over a set of keys he had put in the back pocket of his joggers before coming downstairs.

“Those are yours, I guess.” Arthur said, and Percy looked from the keys, to each of the lads, and then back to the paper.

“I think we broke him.” Gwaine said, poking Percy’s arm.

“I just- I don’t even… Fucking hell.” Percy said.

For years, he had worked in the local gym, paying his membership on a monthly basis; but Percy was almost famous for his work. He needed his own space. So, Arthur had taken one of his Dad’s old buildings, and had it converted into a five-star, all-resources gym, complete with equipment, shower rooms, therapy rooms, sauna and an indoor pool.

“Who’s the sentimental one now, soft-arse!” teased Leon, as Percy wiped an eye and shook his head in disbelief.

“Fuck off.” Percy smiled, and they all began to laugh.

But as Arthur laughed and joked, his mind kept wandering back to the present from Emrys which sat upstairs on his chest of drawers.

“Gonna nip to the loo.” he said, before springing up off his feet and wandering up the stairs. He grabbed the present, and took it into the bathroom (making sure to lock the door this time).

It was sort of cylindrical, and a bit bulkier at one end. Arthur shook it a little, feeling like an excited five-year-old. God, what the hell was it?

He tore into the paper, choking back a laugh when the first thing he saw was a ‘Best Teacher’ mug. What the hell possessed him to buy Arthur such a thing? Arthur then removed the rest of the paper, revealing several things.

There was a scroll of paper, tied with a piano-patterned ribbon and with a little rainbow flag badge poking through. Hilarious. Then, when he opened the scroll, he was met by several sheets of a4 manuscript paper, stapled together in one corner and titled: Prince.

Arthur’s fingers immediately began to itch, and he tried to read the music and sing the song in his head but he didn’t recognise it. Was this an _original?_ Fucking hell.

He flushed the toilet then raced back downstairs, making sure the lads were deep in conversation when he walked smoothly over to his piano. He pulled out the staple, and spread the sheets out over the stands he owned, making sure he could see every page.

He didn’t bother to warm up, and instead he let the music take him, drawing him in with minor chords and the feeling of loss, confusion, misplacement; and then there were melodies and harmonies and as Arthur played through the crescendos and the pace changes, he became moved by _everything._ The heart in this piece, the soul and the rawness of it. The way it sucked him in and the way it was written, by hand, straight from the mind. It was colourful and melancholic and sad and happy and heartbreaking and hopeful and it was fucking beautiful.

And it was all the things that Emrys was.

It _was_ Emrys- at his musical best.

The song ended abruptly, and not resolving. Arthur was so unconvinced by the ending that he looked through the sheets for one that may be missing, and he was about to go back upstairs to look for it there when he noticed some messy writing on the back of one of the final page.

 

 _I guess you inspired me to write this._ _  
_ _This is what I feel with you._   
It’s not finished, because I don’t think there’s an ending yet.

_-Em_

 

Oh shit.

Arthur tried to swallow down the feeling that his heart might come out of his throat in a twisted laugh, and he walked back over to the couch to grab his phone.

He couldn’t just say that about a song. He couldn’t just say that to Arthur without more explanation.

Arthur had to see him soon.

He looked at the lads, knowing that they had other friends up here, and that they had a hotel booked for the next however long they decided to actually stay. He could do this. He could see Em.

He wrote a quick email, making sure it wasn’t too much, and that it didn’t give too much away, then he joined the lads again to try and take his mind off the wait for a response.

 

* * *

 

It was when Arthur was in the kitchen pouring them each a glass of Bucks Fizz (christmas tradition, of course), that he heard his phone ringing from the next room.

Panic ensued because he knew what Gwaine and Leon were like; they were nebby little arseholes and the only person outside of them who ever bothered to ring Arthur was Morgana (who was out of the country) and Gaius- and everyone knew teachers didn’t exist during the holidays.

“Arthur!” Percy yelled, his voice strained, and Arthur hurried into the living room (but not so quick that he looked to keen or anything).

“Who’s ringing you, Princess? You said you didn’t have friends up here, so either it’s someone back home who we _know,_ or it’s a someone up here.” Gwaine said, jumping to try and reach the phone in Percy’s hand.

“Either way, it’s a _secret,_ and we don’t do secrets, Arthur.” Leon teased, standing off to the side and watching with wry smile.

“Oh fuck off, like you all haven’t kept things from me.” Arthur grinned, taking the phone from Percy’s outstretched hand. “See what you’ve done, I’ve missed the fucking call!” Arthur said, taking his phone out of the room and seeing that it was Em who called, and he also had a text

.

 **_Emrys:_ ** _Arthur I’ve fucked everything up. I need to talk to you._

 

Any thoughts of Christmas, of the lads, of the day ahead had completely left Arthur. What the hell had happened? His mind raced a little as he pressed the little call button in the top right of the messaging screen.

“Come on, Em” he murmured before the dial tone even started; and after the first ring, Arthur could hear the sniffles on the other side of the phone.

“Hi,” Emrys croaked, and Arthur felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Hey, Em. What’s the matter? Are you alright?” Arthur asked as calmly as he could.

“No.” Emrys sobbed, but he didn’t expand any further. Arthur felt lost. On the rare occasion that Elena was every upset, he was always there by her side for comfort her the best he could, but right now Arthur was surrounded by his friends and Emrys had been at Gwen’s.

“Em, I really want to help but you have to tell me how. I-I don’t know where Gwen lives and I’ve never driven through to Sunderland before. I-”

“A’m at home.” Emrys interrupted. “Can ya come over? A need to get out in case he comes back. Please, Arthur.”

Arthur’s heart almost stopped. They had spoke about whether Will would return, and Emrys had been convinced Will had gone back to Scotland. Why the fuck would the little bastard choose to show up on Christmas day?

Arthur wasn’t sure what he’d say later, but it didn’t matter.

“Okay, stay there, yeah? I’m coming.” he said, and Emrys mumbled something unintelligible before hanging up the call.

Arthur raced into the landing, stepping into his gym trainers and grabbing his keys from the side. He tried not to think about the drink still in his system from the night before, or the two glasses of prosecco he had over breakfast.

“I need to head out!” Arthur called, before turning to see Percy stood in the hall.

“Is it that bad that you’re willing to drink drive?” Percy asked, his face scrunched with concern.

Arthur inhaled slowly, not knowing exactly how to justify what he was about to do; and knowing that Percy had lost an Uncle through a drink driving accident made it all the worse.

“Perce… he’s-something’s happened and I- he needs me.” Arthur pleaded, desperate to get to Emrys now because he was such a complicated young man that Arthur couldn’t predict what he might do. “Perce, I know-”

“It’s alright, go. Just be careful yeah?” Percy said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “And Arthur?”

“Yeah?” Arthur asked, his back turned to Percy now and his hand on the doorknob.

“The Arthur I know wouldn’t have even done this for Elena. If you care for him that much, maybe it’s about time you told your friends about him, yeah?”

Arthur gulped, not turning around to face the voice of reason.

“When I’m ready, Perce.” he answered, and he left his house.

 

* * *

 

Arthur pulled up outside of Emrys’ house, and was met by the sight of Emrys heading down the path of his garden, wearing a blue, light-up Christmas jumper, a pair of joggers and a set of worn black converse. In any other situation, the contrast probably would have been funny. But this wasn’t any other sitution; and it was anything but funny.

Arthur stepped out of his car, and as though it was natural, as though it was exactly what was supposed to happen, he held out his arms and Emrys stepped right into them, pushing his face into Arthur’s neck and winding his arms around Arthur’s waist.

“Take is somewhere, please.” Emrys cried, open and fragile.

“Hey,” Arthur said, and he pulled back slightly, until Emrys looked up at him through those pained and tired eyes. “I promise I will.” said Arthur, moving a hand to Emrys cheek.

It didn’t matter that they were outside.

It didn’t matter than anyone could see.

What mattered was that Emrys was hurting, and that he needed someone.

And the someone he needed was Arthur.

And so Arthur brushed a tear away with his thumb; savouring this wonderful, awful moment, before moving forwards; gentle and honest and brave, and he let his lips meet Emrys’ in what was not only a comforting gesture, but one of affection. One of what Arthur had a feeling, deep in his stomach, might be the beginnings of something new. Something scary and exciting and, hell, who was Arthur kidding.

He knew exactly what he was feeling.

He just couldn’t admit it, not yet.

“Let’s go.” he said, with a raw smile, before entwining his fingers with Emrys’, and leading him into the car.

 

* * *

 

After a couple of hours of driving to anywhere and everywhere, Arthur received the message from Percy that both Leon and Gwaine had gone off the the hotel.

“Are ya okay? With is coming over, a mean.” Emrys asked. “A don’t want to impose on ya Christmas plans or anythin’.”

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t have any plans, Em. I don’t have any friends up here just yet, and Morgana is somewhere below the equator getting up to goodness knows what.”

“A guess we both have Christmas plans now then,” Emrys said lightly, but Arthur could still hear the sadness that Em was trying so hard to mask.

Arthur drove back home, rushing to Emrys’ door to open it for him before taking his hand again and walking to his front door. He tried his best not to respond too much to the shy smile on Emrys’ face.

“Perce, we’re back!” Arthur called to the now very quiet house, and second later, Percy came in the passageway all dressed, case in hand.

“Right, my taxi’s picking me up from the shop. Cheers for letting me stay, Arthur.” Percy said, and for a second it felt a little strange.

Having these two people who he felt so close to, but that had never met before. No, it wouldn’t do. Arthur stepped forwards then, letting go of Emrys hand to share another man hug with Percy, before gesturing to Emrys. His palms and neck began to sweat and he fretted for a moment, but why? Percy knew already.

“Perce, this is er, this is Emrys. He’s my b- well, actually he’s my stu- no. He’s m-”

“He’s your Emrys.” Percy replied, sharing a fond smile with Em. “You look after him mind, he’s an idiot.” Percy said to Emrys, who took Arthur’s hand once more.

“It was nice to meet ya Perce.” Em replied politely, and they waved at Percy until the door shut between them.

“Drink?” Arthur asked.

“Just tea, but a’ll make them.” Emrys said, dragging Arthur along with him as he took lead and headed for the kitchen.

Arthur was forever amazed at this young man, who was now navigating around the kitchen as though it were his own, making tea for the two of them. Arthur watched Emrys add the three sugars to Arthur’s cup, even though he only ever said that he took two, and he watched Emrys add just the right amount of milk so that the tea was barely black. He marvelled at the familiarity of it, and how having Emrys in his kitchen, in his house, felt so _normal._

“Thank you.” Arthur said, taking the cup from Emrys hands.

“He got is me favourite CD.” Emrys responded, and Arthur pulled a puzzled face.

“What?”

“Will. He bought is me favourite CD. A thought it was weird because a’v already got it, but then he sort of wanted me to open it. Anyway, when a did, there was a note inside saying _‘You’re mind, remember that’_ all in capital letters and then he told Gwen about you and about us.”

There were no tears from Emrys now. He just sounded distant and cold as he scowled down at his cup, seemingly not wanting to meet eyes with Arthur.

“And are you his?” Arthur asked, needing to know that Emrys was confident enough to see the wrong in this.

“No.” Emrys snorted.

“Good,” replied Arthur. “Come on.” he added, gesturing for Emrys to join him in the living room.

Arthur sat down on the sofa, but Emrys walked straight to the piano. Arthur sat back and watched, laughing at how Leon would go mental at Arthur letting someone else touch his piano.

He watched as Emrys stroked the keys, playing snippets and lines of things here and there to warm up his fingers. It was sort of an unwritten rule not to interrupt an emotional pianist when he was ‘in the zone’, so Arthur just observed.

At least that’s what he did until Emrys stopped.

“You used to play with your Dad, didn’t ya?”

Arthur nearly spat out his tea. The question random and very much the last thing Arthur expected to hear from Emrys.

“Yeah, why?” Arthur asked, working his face into what he felt was an unfazed expression.

“It’s common knowledge that Uther was a great pianist. So, a just figured.”

“Oh.” Arthur replied, not really knowing how else to respond.

“Well, do ya think ya'd want to play with me instead?” Emrys asked, shuffling along on the piano stool and trying to lower his face as to mask his shy expression.

Arthur snorted inwardly ad the innuendo, but placed his cup back on the coffee table. He’d very much like to play Piano with Emrys again.

Arthur started by playing the higher opening notes of Brad Jacobsen’s The Wassail Song, and together they moved through the melodies and arpeggios. Arthur found his eyes drifting away from the piano and to Emrys, who played with closed eyes while his long fingers caressed the keys, knowing them better than anything else. Arthur knew that, because he felt the same way.

Aptly, the Christmas song was a very sweet one, reminiscent of happy feelings and weightlessness. They were playing it together, and forgetting all about the curveballs life was trying to throw at them. They were one with the music and with each other at this moment, and that was all that mattered in the world to Arthur.

That this stunning human was next to _him,_ playing piano with _him_ , and brushing fingers with _him_.

Then as the music grew to a slower and gentler close, Arthur took the lead again with the melody and Emrys opened his eyes, meeting Arthur's in a ferocious moment of emotion.

And they played without looking at the keys, but it was a flawless ending, timed perfectly by their observation of each others body and minds.

Then when the silence around them grew louder, Emrys smiled.

“I liked that.” he whispered.

“Yeah.” Arthur said back, looking down at where his hands where now holding Emrys’ over their laps. “Em?”

“Yeah?” Emrys answered, too fast.

“Erm…” Arthur faltered for a moment before clearing his throat. “Would you mind playing Prince? I want to hear it from you, you know?”

“Mmm,” Emrys thought aloud, looking at Arthur with narrowed eyes. “Maybe later. I'm really tired actually. You know, late night and everything, then spending the day arguing with the two people I was supposed to be closest to. Maybe we should have an early night, Arthur.”

Arthur nodded, lifting his hand to rub a thumb over Emrys’ cheek before standing.

“I'll sort the spare room for you.” he said.

 

* * *

 

After locking up and heading to bed earlier than he could remember doing in his entire life, Arthur settled back in his bed and stared around him at the lifelessness. There was nothing to this room other than furniture, bare walls and unpacked boxes. He looked around, deciding that he probably should decorate it at some point.

His phone buzzed on the unit with a picture message from Morgana at the top of some mountain somewhere, and he grinned at her wildness. She really was incredible.

Arthur wished he could be more adventurous and spontaneous, but he liked having plans and routines and knowing what was coming.

But his life wasn't like that right now, was it? Nothing had gone the way he'd planned since he'd moved up here, and was it all that bad? His mind stretched to the spare room, where Emrys was currently residing.

He'd said he wanted to get away. Arthur could do that.

Yes. Tomorrow, they would go away. Well away from the drama and the mess and the confusion. Arthur had said he'd win Emrys over, and this could be it. He'd take him somewhere peaceful, and they could spend the time together.

“Arthur?” came Emrys’ voice from outside the door, followed by two knocks.

“Yeah?” Arthur called.

“Erm,” there was a quiet moment where nothing was said, then Arthur heard Emrys blow air out of his mouth. “Can a come in?”

Arthur swallowed, very aware that he was only wearing his boxers and nothing else.

“Er, yeah. Give me a sec to get dressed.” Arthur said, throwing the duvet aside and standing from his bed. He started looking around for his joggers when Emrys voice sounded out again from outside the door,

“Erm, actually it’s er, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Arthur stopped everything he was doing.

What was Emrys asking?

“Arthur?” Emrys asked, and Arthur looked up towards the door with a long, steadying exhale before walking over and turning the handle.

He pulled open the door, faced with a messy-haired and tired-looking Emrys who was in the same state of undress as he was.

“Neither of us should be spending Christmas alone.” Emrys said, looking straight into Arthur’s eyes, before taking Arthur’s hand, and letting his eyes sweep over Arthur’s body. But he didn’t do it lustfully or judgingly; he did it with a gentle smile that was kind and appreciative; and so Arthur did the same.

He took in Emrys’ body. An image of a body that was made to be thin, but had toned muscles lining he shoulders, pecs, biceps, thighs and calves. There was a slight outline of what could be a six pack with some training, and complete with tattoo and piercings, Arthur couldn’t see a single fault on him.

“You’re beautiful.” Arthur said, panicking as soon as the words spilled from his mouth and looking at Emrys apologetically, but Emrys just turned a little red.

“As are you.” he replied, leaning in and kissing Arthur. It was soft and gentle and long, and Emrys moved forward, guiding them to the bed, where they climbed under the duvet and wound their bodies together. Legs and arms rubbed comfortingly against each other, and smiles and giggles were shared, and that was all it was. Nothing more, nothing less than two young men, smitten and cheerful and kissing until they both closed their eyes and fell asleep.


	26. The Secret (E)

Birds. He wasn’t sure what birds they were exactly, but they were there; right outside the window. He could hear them, involved in a melodious, tuneful conversation. He listened and listened, until he realised that the breathing of the man next to him, entwined with him, had become mere background noise. As though he was so used to having the sound there.

The feeling, however, of having a hot, sweaty chest pressed against his own was new. The feeling of lukewarm exhalation on his neck and chin and the feeling of skin…  _ God, _ so much skin. That was definitely new, and a feeling to be reckoned with.

He stayed still for a while, just listening to the birds, and to Arthur, and to the occasional car that drove down the road at the end of Arthur’s lane. It was nice. To have spent a day going through such an array of emotions and not knowing how to feel had been tough, but then having somewhere to go and someone who just,  _ hell _ , who just threw away his own barriers and worries and held and kissed him in the middle of the street without a care in the world.

That feeling was incredible. 

He tried not to think of it all. Of the past, of the mistakes and the memories and the defining moments. He tried, also, not to think of the worries of present. Of Gwen, of Will, of the barrier of education seemingly trying to separate him from the man who clearly wanted him more than anyone had before.

Instead, there were the birds. Their sweet twittering outside of the window, accompanied by the crisp breeze coming in through the open window (that he would have normally despised, but he was in Arthur’s house, half-wrapped in Arthur’s body), gave him a slight shiver; and then there was  _ touch _ . 

Not like the contact of their bodies mushed together under the duvet and moulded from their long hours of togetherness; but a gentle, tickling touch over his left rib, over which lay his tattoo. 

Arthur was awake.

He could feel a smile curling on the edges of his lips; and when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by a lopsided-haired, heavy-eyed and utterly beautiful face beaming up at him.

“Shouldn’t watch people while they’re asleep, pervert.” Emrys muttered, his eyes straining in the light of the winter morning.

“You weren’t asleep, idiot.” Arthur replied endearingly, his stubbly chin resting against Emrys’ chest. Emrys didn’t reply. He just watched as Arthur’s eyes fell back on the tattoo, to where his finger trailed ever-so-softly over the words that were permanently etched into his skin.

He took a deep breathe, ready to explain to Arthur why he’d gotten the tattoo and what it meant, but the words were swept out of his mouth when Arthur sang the words there.

“I hate to feel the shallow ground giving way; I’ve never let myself fall this much astray, and feeding on that touch is all one does to survive.”

He sang the words as they were on his skin, no more, no less; and he sang them perfectly.

“You changed the words, why?” Arthur asked, his finger brushing over ‘that touch’.

“Because it isn’t about a woman. The song can be interpreted in a few different ways, but those three lines…” Emrys trailed off, his breath stolen from his lungs at the honest and open look in Arthur’s eyes, which were now looking directly into his own.

“Those three lines?” Arthur asked, leaning his head forward to place a gentle kiss on Emrys’ skin.

“Yeah, Well. I guess, the song has always been a favourite of mine, and the way I see things… I feel like I have gone astray. My whole fucking life has gone astray.”

“And feeding on that touch?” Arthur asked, mirroring the lyrics, asking the question.

“That’s why I changed it to ‘that’ instead of ‘her’ or even ‘his’. Because it’s not about a person. It’s about lost hope. It’s about still finding myself stupidly thinking my life is going to go uphill at some point, and that’s what keeps me going. That, and music.”

Arthur nods then, seemingly understanding Emrys’ argument. Then those stunning blue eyes fall gently closed, and Arthur rests his cheek over the centre of Emrys’ chest.

“She said, show me the world that’s inside your head. Show me the world that you see yourself, you could use some help. ‘Cause sometimes it comes with a shove, when y-”

Arthur stopped abruptly, and Emrys almost finished the song for him until he realised what the next words were. Then there was a moment between them. A silence, where the lyrics were probably looming heavy in both of their minds; but even then it wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was just strange, new and undiscovered.

“It’s a beautiful song.” Arthur breathed, his eyes open now, but fixed on Emrys’ rib once more.

“It is.”

“A beautiful tattoo for an equally beautiful person.” Arthur said, still unable to meet Emrys’ eyes.

Emrys didn’t mind though, because no one had ever said anything like that before, and he was rather fond of the burning feeling that it made him feel deep in his chest.

He let his own fingers reach for Arthur’s chin, where he tugged slightly; his fingers tingling from the morning pins and needles. Then when Arthur lifted slightly, Emrys did too, with the two of them meeting each other slowly for a tender and soulful kiss.

In that moment, they were what they were. It didn’t matter, none of it. They were two people, two unimportant people on a huge planet, and yet all they wanted was each other. So, they kissed, and it was nothing more than that for a while; until Arthur shifted his weight, propping himself up on his elbows at either side of Emrys’ body; and very bravely lowering himself; letting Emrys feel that, yes, Arthur was absolutely rock hard.

From gentle blissfulness to undying want, Emrys thought back to the night on the piano, and back to the pictures Arthur had sent. Back to  _ that  _ video. Then he realised how  _ thirsty  _ he was.

“Em, I don’t know how… I don’t know what feels good for er…”

Emrys pushed up again, biting the big idiot’s lips with a snarl that made Arthur moan in a way that Emrys knew he’d remember for a very long time. Of course Arthur wouldn’t know everything, but to be a teacher you also have to be a fast learner. 

Emrys kept Arthurs mouth busy, and tested the water by thrusting up off the bed, causing his dick to clash with Arthur’s. He waited a moment, hoping for a moan or a gasp or anything that meant for Emrys to continue.

Instead, Arthur moved quick, hooking his hands under Emrys’ thighs and swinging them both around. Emrys was a little lost at first, having not moved at all that morning, but then when Arthur began to fight to open his own legs, Emrys realised that he was being handed over all control. 

It crossed his mind very briefly that he could show Arthur all of the wonderful things they could do with each other’s bodies, but now really wasn’t the time for it. They needed quick release, and Emrys was happy to provide it.

He thrusted down a few times, rubbing their clothed erections together; enough times to make Arthur grunt and groan until-

“Fuck, Em, get them off!” Arthur growled, and Emrys dragged himself back, pulling Arthur’s boxers down his thighs and then his own, not even bothering to take any of them off completely.

“Lube, Arthur.” Emrys said, only to be stared at like he had an extra head.

“Shit.” whispered Arthur, after a moment’s realisation; and Emrys snorted.

“S’fine.” he said, spitting into his hand and taking both of their cocks together; rubbing down and up whilst thrusting slow and then he was watching as Arthur’s face grew redder in colour, and a sheen of sweat formed on his brow while he panted, hard and needy.

God, this was fucking amazing.

He sped up then, turning his fist on every pull-back, and rubbing his fingers gently over Arthur’s frenum stud, causing him too buck his hips and mutter obscenities that would made even Gwen blush.

Then, unexpectedly, Arthur’s hands were on Emrys’ back, pulling him down and digging in his fingernails; sending Emrys into a thrusting frenzy. The harsh scratches were bringing him close and he could feel and see Arthur coming apart beneath him.

Fuck.

Then Arthur was coming all over Emrys’ hand, causing that extra lubrication needed for Emrys to feel the bursts of pleasure riding up the insides of his thighs and down to the pits of his stomach. He tensed his legs, his stomach and he fucked his fist until he too, had came over Arthur’s stomach and cock.

“Here, I’ll grab some loo roll.” said Arthur, looking a little awkward, and making a slight effort to get up before Emrys pushed him back down and flopped on top of him, smearing their mess together between their stomachs.

“We can wait a while.” Emrys said gently, kissing the edge of Arthur’s lips.

“Really?” asked Arthur, seeming rather confused by the idea.

“What, you mean you’ve always cleaned up immediately after?” Emrys asked sarcastically, before realising too late the way Arthur was looking at him. “You’re joking.” he added, looking down in shock.

“Elena wasn’t a fan of the mess or the feeling or anything.” Arthur admitted with a shrug.

“But you don’t mind?” asked Emrys, feeling out of his depth a little. 

“Nah, it’s nice to relax, I guess.” said Arthur, smiling a little more easily now.

“Nice and slippery.” Emrys laughed, sliding his belly against Arthur’s, which in turn made some rather obscene noises.

Arthur winced a little, but it wasn’t genuine; and as they lay there in the quiet, Emrys thought of the many, filthy things he could teach Arthur.

****

* * *

 

“Up!” came Arthur's shout from somewhere near the end of the bed. Emrys hadn't even realised he'd fell back to sleep. 

“Uuuuuugh” he groaned, rolling to bury his face in the pillow. It smelled like Arthur. 

“Up!” Arthur shouted again, this time throwing a soft object at Emrys, presumably an item of clothing. 

“Whyyyy?” Emrys groaned, and then before he could react to the sound of fast approaching feet, there was the whole weight of Arthur's body, spread across his back. 

“Because,” whispered Arthur, and Emrys could feel the warm breath on his ear, making him shudder from his head to his growing dick. “I'm taking you out,  _ Em _ rys.” 

Emrys liked that, the way Arthur dragged out his name, and so he nudged upwards with his back, and rolled over so he was looking up into Arthur's smiling face. 

Not a playful smile or a naughty smile; just an honest, loving smile. 

“Please?” Arthur asked, doing his best attempt at what Emrys assumed were puppy dog eyes, but with the way Arthur was hovering above him it was having quite a different effect.

And Arthur noticed.

“Oh, hello,” Arthur crooned, looking down to where Emrys’ boxers were tented upwards, brushing against Arthur’s clothed crotch. Emrys gulped as Arthur leaned in, nudging Emrys’ face to the side with the tip of his nose and dragging his teeth down over the skin of Emrys’ neck.

Emrys’ breath soon became shaky as Arthur slowly, gently, torturously kissed his way down Emrys’ torso. His tongue brushing Emrys’ ever-sensitive, pierced nipples before finding a path to lick down the centre of Emrys’ chest. Down, down, so  _ close _ . Then Arthur paused, looking up to meet Emrys’ eyes with a hungry, dark glare. Then he dropped his face into Emrys’ groin and inhaled.

“ _ Ohfuck”  _ Emrys blurted in a hushed tone, before Arthur ran his lips up and down the length of Emrys’ erection and kissing the base of his shaft through his boxers. Then he kissed a bit further up-then further again-then he paused, breathless; hovering with an open mouth right over the head of Emrys’ now throbbing cock.

He could feel Arthur’s breath moistening his boxers, sending a slight thrill of anticipation up through his very bones.

“Get up.” Arthur whispered then, and with a wink he got up and swiftly left the room.

The  _ bastard. _

“And don’t even think about wanking,  _ Em _ rys!” 

 

* * *

 

“Where are we going?” Emrys asked, arms folded over his chest in the passenger seat of Arthur’s car. They been in there for 46 minutes already, through all of which Emrys had downright refused to speak to Arthur.

“You’ll see.” Arthur replied, a smug grin on his face.

“Dickhead.” Emrys muttered, and Arthur threw his head back and laughed.

“You should be nicer to me, Em. I’m taking you away, like you asked.”

“You know, I barely even know you. You could be smuggling me away to a depths of nowhere to have your wicked way with me.” Emrys smirked.

“Yeah? Maybe that’s exactly what I plan to do.” said Arthur, sticking out his tongue and reminding Emrys that he never got off this morning.

“Fuck you.”

Arthur snorted, and Emrys turned away from him, not wanting him to see the traitorous smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

“You’re actually serious, that we’re staying?” Emrys asked as they pulled up outside the homely little cottage.

“I am indeed.” replied Arthur, before getting out of the car and walking around to open Emrys’ door. “We won’t stay ages, but you wanted to get away and I wanted some time with you. Proper time with you.”

Emrys gaped at Arthur for a moment, before allowing himself to really take in his surroundings. He’d never been anywhere like this, surrounded by trees and mountains and lakes and so much fresh air that it almost made him light-headed.

“Is this yours, then?” Emrys asked, because it was about all he could think to do.

“Yeah. Morgs tends to go for places abroad, and Dad had a load of places for business. It never really appealed to me at first, because home was home and it was all I needed. But then after he erm, after he died I needed somewhere to go.”

Emrys nodded. Understanding the need to be away, be it in a cottage in Windermere or an outhouse in the garden. He understood.

“It was the only place I could really play.” Arthur said, then, and he took Emrys’ hand.

And together they walked into the cottage, where Arthur showed Emrys around the place. A low-ceilinged living area with wooden beams and naked brick walls; and a petite little country kitchen stocked with booze, fruit and fresh baked goods. There was only one bedroom; large and light with a wall-length window; and the bathroom had a jacuzzi bath in which Emrys planned on spending a  _ lot _ of time. 

The part he liked most, though, was the all-glass conservatory at the back of the house, in which sat a glossy, walnut C. Bechstein grand piano. It was beautiful and it suited Arthur. The whole place suited Arthur.

And at first, they sat and played piano for a while. Playing their favourite songs (Arthur’s was Kiss The Rain by Yiruma) and Emrys’ didn’t have a favourite; he just loved the entire Beyond Cloud Nine album by Philip Wesley, and apparently so did Arthur. 

They opened the conservatory doors, relishing in the chill of the cold air, and the warmth of each other’s arms as they snuggled together on the single chair. This house was only made for one, but Emrys was glad to be there. They talked for hours about anything they could that wouldn’t make them too sad or too thoughtful; and they laughed over plenty of soft kisses.

Then when the sun began to set, and the cold became too much, they moved upstairs to the bedroom, where Arthur pulled open the blinds, revealing the view over lake Windermere under the orange glow of the sky. 

It was beautiful.

Emrys sat on the edge of the bed, just staring in awe, and Arthur sat next to him. It wasn’t until he noticed the way Arthur was shaking his leg and chewing at his inner-cheek, that Emrys became a tad concerned.

“Is something the matter?” Emrys asked, struggling to believe anything could be wrong at all when they were here.

Arthur cleared his throat and stilled, before turning his whole body inwards to face Emrys.

He exhaled shakily, and Emrys could tell he was nervous. When Arthur’s hand settled on Emrys’ cheek, he couldn’t help but turn into the touch and inhale. There was something about the smell of Arthur that just made everything so right.

“Hey,” Arthur said, making Emrys realise he’d closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Arthur leaned in slow, asking, and Emrys met him for a long, passionate kiss.

“Em,” Arthur whispered into Emrys’ mouth, and Emrys responded with a muffled sound, trapped between the sound of lips moving against each other.

Then while they were kissing, Arthur entwined his fingers with Emrys’ and pulled back; looking fiercely into Emrys’ eyes.

“Will you please be my boyfriend?”

_ Fuck. _

Emrys’ mind blacked out for a moment. There were too many things. God it would be perfect to have a life with this beautiful, incredible, mature man but at the same time it would be tragic. Arthur was  _ Arthur.  _ He was the son of a well known, wealthy businessman. He was his  _ teacher _ too, for goodness sake. But he was so pure, so wonderful. He deserved so much better than Emrys… but wouldn’t it be perfect?

“Oh. Erm… I mean I guess we- We sort of-” Emrys fumbled, his heart about to explode but his brain completely shutting off.

“Fuck. Fuck, forget I asked. Jesus Christ.” Arthur replied, getting up from the bed and looking absolutely mortified. He was about to leave the room before Emrys’ brain sprung back into life.

“Arthur, no hang on!” Emrys leapt up from the bed, when Arthur turned, his face one very reminiscent of his own reflection after Will had rejected him that day years ago. “It’s just- I mean you haven’t really came out or anything yet, and I’m still your student. Hell, I’d absolutely love nothing more, but it just isn’t a good idea. I thought we were just… Fuck, I don’t even know what I thought we were doing, but as far as I was concerned, I was enjoying it. If by the end of the year you still like me, then yeah. But is it really worth risking your job over?”

Arthur looked torn, his mouth opening to speak and then closing again before he ran his hands through his hair.

“Isn’t that what this is though? This whole thing where we talk to each other all the damn time, sending each other dirty pictures and not being able to keep our hands off each other? I think about you all the fucking time, Em. Fuck, I even dream about you. I’m willing to just keep it all a secret for now. It’ll be just me and you and no one has to know. Just us, yeah? By day you’ll be my friend, and nobody has to know the rest.”

Emotions welled up through Emrys’ mind. He understood, of course he did. And hell, that was a confession to be remembered, but Emrys was out. Hell, he’d always been openly gay and that was all he’d ever known; and he wasn’t tied down by rules and regulations. He was a free person, more or less. “Arthur, I won’t be somebody’s secret.” 

And finally, because Arthur had taught him that he was worth more, worth better; he knew that if there was ever a reason he couldn’t do it- that was it.. “I’m worth more than to be kept hidden.”

Emrys watched, a little saddened by the distant look in Arthur’s eyes, and so he made a quick decision. He walked forwards and took Arthur’s hands in his own. 

“But that doesn’t mean we have to stop this, whatever it is. We can still have a good night here together, yeah? As friends?”

Arthur looked up at him with questioning eyes, then he snorted.

“Friends? What happened to ‘more’?” Arthur asked.

“Well, I guess we are more. How many friends do you whisk away to cottages with a view of the lake and-” Emrys paused on seeing Arthur’s smirk. “Actually, don’t answer that question.”

 

* * *

 

His fingers relished in the bizarre timing and the complimenting notes. His foot bounced back and forth rhythmically on the sustain pedal while he played through the repeating motifs, and he closed his eyes, swaying while the music filled him up. It was like magic, like it was emanating from his very soul. Robin Speilberg’s  _ Cherry Blossom  _ was an absolutely stunning piece of music. It was rare that Emrys found the right opportunity to play it, and right here; it was perfect. It was tranquil and peaceful and it filled him up; like magic.

Really, if there were magic in the world, this was it. He could  _ feel _ the music inside of him, resonating in his very bones. It filled his soul with warmth and colour, and for every blend of notes and every falter in tempo; his mind erupted with so much feeling.

And he didn’t watch his fingers on the keys because that was just muscle memory now. No. Instead, he watched the rise and fall of Arthur’s chest while he lay curled up on the chair, snoring lightly. He looked young. Emrys guessed it was an automatic thing, to see someone as your teacher and to immediately view them as an ‘adult’; but hell, Arthur was twenty-three. Twenty-Three years old, parentless, and living alone in an unfamiliar city so that he could teach students at a prestigious university. Suddenly, Emrys felt very guilty for acting like a prick when they first met. 

The fingers of his right hand floated at an incredible speed over the higher notes and he found himself smiling. Right here, he could be who he wanted. He could sit in this room and play piano for as long as he lived whilst Arthur Pendragon snuggled up on his comfy chair and listened. He found himself wishing it was cliché to run away. To just stay here forever.

How wrong could life be in a place as perfect as this, with someone as perfect as Arthur?

But that was a life to be dreamt of, and nothing more. His fingers relaxed into a slower tempo and the music came to a close, and he closed his eyes; hanging on to that last sustained chord as it rung out.

Then it was quiet.

The conservatory was lit only by the warm glow of fairy lights and the off-white gleam of the moon, and when Emrys looked up, he could see the stars. The quiet here was different to the quiet at home. There were no distant sounds of cars or trains or passers-by. Instead, there was a gentle breeze outside, and upon opening the doors again Emrys could hear crickets, running water and Arthur stirring in his sleep. 

He looked down towards where the lake was. There were so many trees and the whole place thrummed with its own music- its own magic.

He remained still when Arthur’s hands wound around his waist from behind, and as though it were all too natural, he tilted back his head and turned to kiss the tip of Arthur’s nose.

“S’cold.” Arthur whispered, before stealing a kiss of his own.

“Yeah. But it’s too nice not to look at. Thank you for bringing me here, Arthur.” Emrys said, letting himself sink into the feeling of the environment around him.

“And thank you for coming here with me.” Arthur said, kissing Emrys’ shoulder. It made him wonder, because Arthur seemed to like kissing more than anything else right now. It didn’t matter on the type of kiss, or the length. Emrys wasn’t used to it at all. Will had never been that taken to kissing.

“Well…” Emrys snorted. “I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” 

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, feigning an offended look.

“I mean that you purposefully, and in full knowledge of what you were doing, gave me a raging erection this morning and then left me without any release and with a refusal to even wank.” Emrys said, turning to face Arthur properly now.

An array of emotions passed over Arthur’s face. Confusion, humour, guilt? But then, he seemed to settle on shy. His cheeks flushed an endearing pink colour and he looked down at his feet with a grin.

“I didn’t actually expect you not to wank, Em.” Arthur said with a gentle laugh.

“Well, confirmation of that would have been nice this morning.” Emrys replied with a laugh of his own.

“Sorry. Why would you… you know-why would you  _ not  _ wank? Just because I asked?” Arthur questioned, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth.

Then Emrys looked at him. He  _ properly _ looked at him. Arthur really liked kissing, and his ex girlfriend, Elena, seemed to not like doing very much at all. It was obvious to Emrys that Arthur was a very ‘vanilla’ kind of bloke, but he wondered if Arthur had ever experimented with anyone at all. He wondered if it would be a good idea to do anything at all with Arthur.

He stopped wondering, however, when Arthur leaned forwards and turned in to whisper in his ear.

“I want you so bad, Em. So fucking bad.” And then he pushed Emrys back and back and back, out of the conservatory and up against the cobblestone wall of the cottage. “I’ve been thinking about things I hadn’t ever dreamed of before. Things you could show me how to do. I want to have you in every way I can, and then I’ll do the same for you, Em.” he said, his breath uneven as he pushed in and rubbed his hardness against Emrys’ outer thigh.

Emrys was almost seeing double. It was as though Arthur had his own personal binoculars inside of Emrys’ mind. But Emrys had said no to being his boyfriend, so it would be wrong, wouldn’t it? And now wasn’t the time to be teaching Arthur about gay sex. No. But then he couldn’t ruin this getaway; and he really needed some relief. 

_ Sod it _ , he thought. Sure, it wasn’t time for the gay sex talk, but Emrys was definitely willing to show Arthur one or two other things.

He grabbed Arthur by the waist, and span the around. He might have pushed Arthur too hard against the wall, but it seemed Arthur didn’t mind. They kissed, hot and desperate, before Arthur took Emrys’ bottom lip between his teeth.

“Now, now, Emrys.” he teased, his voice low, before grabbing Emrys’ shoulders and spinning them again, pressing Emrys back against the wall with a force that made Emrys gasp for  _ more. _

“Now, now, yourself.” Emrys growled back, using his leg to wrap around Arthur’s, spinning them again and this time pressing Arthur face first against the wall. He pressed himself forward pushing his arousal forward onto Arthur's arse, making him gasp. It was too much and not enough. The thought of taking Arthur like this, here and now was at the forefront of his mind. How easy it would be to-

“Shouldn't let your defenses down.” Arthur snarled, spinning them again, and landing Emrys against the wall. 

God. He wasn't expecting Arthur to put up such a fight, and he damn well wasn't expecting him to enjoy it like that. Could he get any more impossibly perfect? 

Arthur threw himself forwards, bringing their faces together with messy kisses that were all tongues, teeth and piercings, then when Arthur pulled back, he stilled with a dark smirk on his face. 

“I want you to tell me what to do, what you like.” he whispered, causing Emrys to almost swallow his own tongue in lust. 

He didn't even hesitate before slowly moving his lips to Arthur's ear. 

“Get those fucking lips around my dick.”

Arthur responded in kind, pushing Emrys once more for good measure and placing messy kisses down from his ear to his neck. 

“I like you in my shirts.” Arthur said, toying with the grey material of the t-shirt he'd loaned Emrys that morning. He then moved both hands to the v-neck of the tee. “I think I'd like you better with no shirt at all.  He growled, his tone fierce and hungry and when he ripped the neck of the shirt, Emrys actually whimpered. 

Arthur smiled, proud, before licking a line down from Emrys collar bone to his nipple. He took it, piercings and all, into his mouth and gave a gentle suck. 

“Harder,” Emrys gasped. 

“Mmm… soon.” Arthur replied. 

Then, lost in the moment, Emrys took a handful of Arthur hair’s and pulled him up so they were face to face. 

“Do as you're fucking told.” Emrys threatened. 

“Oh I will, on my own terms. You're forgetting whose in charge here.” Arthur laughed, before pulling out of Emrys’ grasp and getting down on his knees. There was a rush of hands while Arthur pulled down Emrys’ joggers.

“Bloody hell.” Arthur gasped when Emrys’ erection sprung free. He had opted not to wear boxers today. Emrys nodded at Arthur who, with a determined twinkle in his eye, opened his mouth and took the head of Emrys’ dick slowly into his mouth. 

It was almost as though the movements were practiced, and when Arthur looked up to meet his eyes before gently scraping his teeth across Emrys’ shaft, Emrys had a feeling Arthur had watched plenty of porn. He bucked up, trying his best not to lose control but  _ fuck _ Arthur was so good at this.

_ So  _ fucking good.

He knew he wasn’t going to last, especially not after being left hanging this morning. He could feel it, the pleasure taking over, to bring him that high that he’d been craving all day.

“OhfuckArthur!” Emrys groaned, so close, but then Arthur grabbed Emrys’ legs and lifted them, causing Emrys to fall to the ground. What was left of his shirt hadn’t protected his back from grazing against the cobblestone wall, but he didn’t even care. Arthur turned him fast and pushed him back, pinning his hands above his head as he kissed him hard and ground his clothed crotch against Emrys’ bare skin.

“Mm, want you.” Arthur grunted between kisses. “Want you so much- need to-  _ fuck- _ Emrys you’re so- so fucking  _ sexy _ ”

Arthur was a talker, then.

“Yeah?” Emrys answered. Maybe Arthur would be into talking, too, then. “And you. You- You’re so unreal, Arthur- I can’t begin- to tell you how hot- this makes me- knowing that my dick- is the first you’ve sucked.”

Arthur began to rut harder against him and Emrys knew this was turning him on so much. “You can shag- anyone at all- any man- but I’ll-  _ ahh _ \- I’ll always be-  _ ohfuckArthur _ \- I’ll always be your first dick.”

“ _ AhhFuckEmrys! _ ” Arthur cried, inevitably coming in his pants. He then rushed back down towards Emrys’ cock, freeing his hands, and started sucking hard. Just the right about of suction, movement and teeth for Emrys to start riding that wave of pleasure that was building in his body.

“Shit, Arthur.” he said, bucking up into Arthur’s mouth and fighting the urge to just grab his face and fucking ride it. 

“Come for me, Em.” Arthur said over a mouthful of dick and it was so fucking hot. “Don’t you want to stake your claim as my first dick?”

That was it. He scrunched his eyes shut as pleasure exploded inside of him and pulsed through his veins, through his muscles, through his very soul. Then, when he opened his eyes again, it was to see Arthur with come dripping down his cheek, over his lips.

There was a quiet moment between them, where they just looked at each other, then Arthur slowly stuck out his tongue and licked Emrys’ seed off his lips.

Emrys shivered before moving in for a more gentle kiss. A kiss that tasted like him and Arthur together. A kiss that tasted better than anything he’d tasted before.

 

* * *

 

When Emrys awoke, it was to the fresh memory of the night before. Of them walking hand-in-hand to the jacuzzi bath and Arthur rubbing the tension out of Emrys’ back. Of them laughing whilst Arthur did an Elton John impression at the piano. Of them lying for hours in bed, a naked tangle, while they just kissed each other. Nothing more, and Emrys still loved every second.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted when he sneezed three times, and when he opened his eyes to the view of Windermere in the late-morning haze of sun, it just made him sneeze twice more.

“Sorry,” Arthur said from the doorway, and Emrys’ eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of Arthur wearing nothing at all and carrying a tray. 

“You gave me a shock.” Emrys said when he regained himself.

“Sorry again, then, I guess.” Arthur laughed. He placed the tray on the bedside unit and sat down next to Emrys, leaning in for a kiss, before passing Emrys a cup.

“It’s lemon and ginger tea with a spoon of honey. I think when I sucked you off outside, you might have caught a cold.”

Emrys stared at the cup for a moment before taking it from Arthur’s hands. He was somewhere between being really turned on and absolutely smitten. Arthur perfect Pendragon.

“Thanks.” Emrys said, sipping at the tea.

“I added a touch of cold water so it’s not too hot to drink, and there are some extra-strength, cherry strepsils there too if your throat is too sore. Oh, and there’s some ibuprofen in the cupboard in the kitchen so if you want-”

Emrys leaned forward to interrupt Arthur with a chaste kiss.

“You talk too much sometimes.” he said.

“I guess I’m just nervous. I’ve really enjoyed this and I guess… I don’t know, I guess I just don’t want it all to go back to normal.” Emrys felt a pang of regret when he looked at Arthur’s face. He’d told Arthur he wouldn’t be somebody’s secret. And he wouldn’t.

“Sorry, Em. I didn’t mean for it to get all weird. If you want to, we can-”

Emrys lifted a finger, placing it over Arthur’s lips.

Arthur wasn’t just somebody. He was Arthur.

“What I want,” he kissed Arthur’s nose. “Is to lie in bed,” he kissed Arthur’s chin. “With my lovely tea,” he kissed Arthur’s cheek. “And to admire the view,” he kissed Arthur’s lips. “With my new boyfriend.”

Arthur’s eyes widened and his little shy smile was replaced with the biggest grin Emrys had ever seen.

“Do you mean that?” Arthur said, and Emrys could feel him almost vibrating with anticipation.

“Well, we’ll have to keep it a secret from the class, but under the condition that by the end of the academic year you will come out, then yes, I mean-”

Emrys wasn’t sure where the cup of tea even landed when Arthur dove forwards, knocking him on his back and kissing every inch of his skin so fast that it tickled. He just knew that this was probably the first half-decent decision he’d made in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Cherry Blossom - Robin Speilberg](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7nfy0ANyGI)
> 
> and for Merlin's tattoo:  
> [Shove - Angels and Airwaves](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M2Psqlbxd18)


	27. Time Off (A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mention of self-harm

When Arthur finally settled onto his sofa after dropping Emrys off home, it was with a head dizzy with contentedness and a heart so full he was afraid it would seep out of his body and turn everything around him into rainbows and happiness.

He couldn’t remember a time where he’d had to wait for something he wanted so badly, and he couldn’t remember a time where he’d been so happy to have someone. Even with Elena, things hadn’t felt like this. He was sure he loved her, and even now, looking back, he was still sure of it.

This though, this thing with Emrys was something else entirely. There was a need there that he hadn’t ever felt before. Sure, some of it was physical but most of it burned deep somewhere in his soul and it made him yearn and crave. Even now, that Emrys was officially (even if only secretly) his boyfriend, he felt like he needed to be _with_ him.

Arthur propped his bare feet up on the coffee table and pulled his phone from his pocket. He hated that he was acting like such a girl but he couldn’t help it. He pulled a cushion up onto his lap and hugged it in his arms whilst sending the text.

 

 **Arthur:** Is it bad that I already miss you? Xxxx

 

The reply was instant.

 

 **Emrys:** Oh god, you aren’t one of these soppy boyfriends are you? X

 

Arthur smiled to himself while he and Emrys texted back and forward for the next ten minutes.

 

 **Arthur:** Why, do you not want me to be? Are you complaining? :P xxx

 **Emrys:** Nah, I suppose you make a good cuppa so I’ll keep you around ;) x

 **Arthur:** Emrys?

 **Arthur:** Why aren’t you putting more kisses on my texts??? xxx

 **Emrys:** My God, it’s like having a girlfriend. Xxxxxxxxxx ← happy now???

 **Arthur:** As if you’d even know what it’s like to have a girlfriend, you sarcastic idiot! Xxx

 **Emrys:** You’re right. I don’t intend to find out what it’s like, either. Xxx

 **Arthur:** I can’t believe you admitted to finding me ‘attractive’ as soon as you saw me :P xxx

 **Emrys:** Just stop there, clotpole. Before your head gets too big, just remember that I was your gay awakening! Xxx

 **Arthur:** I thought you liked my big head?? ;) xxx

 **Emrys:** Well, I suppose you’re not wrong there. Xxx

 **Arthur:** No, I’m not. And you like this too. <inserted image> xxx

 **Emrys:** Arthur, I’ll say this once and once only. Sending inappropriate images of your bulge in a very nice pair of CKs is not ‘keeping it on the low down’ like we’d agreed. Xxx

 **Arthur:** Please, we were doing this before. What difference does it make now? I want to see you, Em. Show me xxx

 **Emrys:** <inserted image>

 **Arthur:** Fuck, I’m coming over yours.

 

And that was how Arthur and Emrys ended up lying in Emrys’ outhouse with only the sound of the heavy rain on the roof to cover up their desperate kissing.

“You’re so beautiful.” Arthur whispered between light touches of the lips.

“Ya keep saying that.” Emrys breathed in reply, and his cheeks reddened in the most adorable way.

“Maybe I say it because it makes you smile.” Arthur answered, kissing the end of Emrys’ nose.

Emrys lifted a hand to cover his embarrassed grin and shook his head. Arthur then made a show of tickling Emrys’ sides so he’d move his hands back out of the way. God, Arthur could look at him like this for days.

When Arthur had arrived, Emrys had greeted him at the door with a chaste kiss. They grabbed Emrys' duvets and pillows and quickly ran to the back of the large garden to the little wooden outhouse. Here, they had made a makeshift bed.

Arthur’s hand stopped tickling, and instead began to rub small circles into Emrys’ hip when their eyes met for the millionth time and they gazed at each other in an attempt at communicating words that were to big for them. Words that were too much to be spoken this soon.

Eventually, though, Emrys broke the silence.

“A’ll never understand how a got you.” he said, his voice quivering with emotion.

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

“A mean look at you. Jesus Christ, you’re Arthur Pendragon. And even if ya weren’t the son of Uther Pendragon and the most beautiful person a’ve ever seen, you’d still be perfect. You’re too nice for your own good and it’s like… it’s like you get me. And it’s new and it’s weird and a can’t help but question how the odds managed to go in my favour here. Ya moved miles away from home to teach at a prestigious university and I wasn’t even going to do this course. Hell, this isn’t even my course. I was coincidentally put in ya class. It’s just weird how we’ve been brought together and a can’t help but think that you just deserve miles better.”

Emrys exhaled long and slow after his rant and Arthur smiled, more to himself than anything else.

“I wish you could see you how I see you.” he replied, and he entwined his fingers with Emrys’ under the duvet.

“What, naked all the time?” Emrys asked, trying for a joke.

“No,” said Arthur, lifting Emrys’ hand to his lips, and making a point of looking anywhere but Emrys’ eyes. He wasn’t one to showcase his honesty like this. “I see someone who has been pushed in a few wrong directions, and who has made some bad choices. I see someone who has been through more than he deserves and who, through everything, is still the most wonderful, complex and truly admirable person I have probably ever laid eyes on. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, Em. Not a thing. What has happened to you has made you who you are today and has pointed you in my direction. I won’t curse the gods of fate and destiny for making that happen. You know, my Dad really believed that everything happens for a reason and I never believed it. But here, now, I think I finally see what he meant. I don’t think anyone has made me feel like you do. Made me feel so completely in… well. Made me feel so whole.”

Arthur kissed the tips of each of Emrys’ fingers and then looked up to see tears pooling in his boyfriend’s eyes. His _boyfriend._

“Arthur,” Emrys whispered, and he pushed down the blankets and pulled Arthur’s shaky hands towards his shirt. “I want to show you something.”

“Em?” Arthur asked, and when Emrys led Arthur’s hands to the hem of his shirt, Arthur realised that he was asking for Arthur to undress him.

And so Arthur did, With shaky hands, he removed Emrys’ t-shirt while his mind was somewhere between confused, intrigued, aroused and awed. Then, Emrys removed his own pyjama bottoms.

He leaned in, kissing Arthur, soft and small, while he led Arthur’s hands slowly to his back.

“One day,” he whispered, so quiet it was barely audible even in the quiet of the night “One day, if we are going to become serious, you will have to see me _properly._ It’s important to me that you know the full extent of who I am, Arthur.”

Emrys then scrunched up his eyes, as though pained at what he was about to do.

“Emrys, you don’t-”

“Shh,” Emrys hushed as he pressed Arthurs fingers into his lower back. “In secondary school, I thought no one would notice. My mam was awful. My Auntie Alice died and she pretty much signed off at that point. She became immune to feeling anything at all. Then my school report came in and I was doing really bad. I’d never seen her so angry, yet so emotionless. It was as though she thought I felt nothing at all. As though she was the only one suffering. So I went upstairs and I thought no one would see if I did it there. I used a pencil sharpener blade.”

Arthur felt the blood run out of his face and struggled for words to find amongst the million things that were all of a sudden spiralling through his brain.

“This one,” Emrys said next, pulling Arthur’s hand down to his inner thigh. “This one was my first one, after my Dad left. Probably one of the worst too. I used a shard of glass I found. I didn’t do it just for the pain that time, though. I did it because I thought they didn’t want me. Dad left and Mam was just… Well, she was just vacant. I thought noone cared but then Will, h-he came around and told me never to try that again because if there was anyone worth living for at all, then I couldn’t die,”

At this point, Emrys was sobbing and Arthur wanted to reach out and embrace him and hold him and tell him that everything would be better now, but he didn’t want to interrupt whatever this was.

“He said that as l-long as he was alive, I wasn’t allowed to die. B-because I was the most i-important person he ever knew.”

Arthur nodded, but Emrys’ eyes were still closed. Still, though, he didn’t dare speak. Instead, he focused his attention on where Emrys was running Arthur’s hand over his wrist.

Emrys calmed his breathing, and when he spoke his voice was utterly broken and it made Arthur’s heart shatter in his chest.

“This is where the rest went. The ones from over the years where I thought I needed the pain, or the punishment, or the distraction… and this, here,” Emrys moved Arthur’s finger over a small circle over the scars. “This is because I was so torn up between you and Will and I just needed something to bring me to focus.”

Emrys opened his eyes and met Arthur’s gaze. His expression was curious and was, undeniably, looking for a sign that Arthur was about to run. So Arthur used the moment to pull his hand out of Emrys’ grasp and run it over a single tear that was making its way down his cheek.

This wasn’t a time for a lot of words.

Arthur held his hand to Emrys’ face for a few seconds, and then he smiled before removing his own jumper and jogger bottoms.

He couldn’t help but smirk at the way Emrys’ gaze slipped to his behind, then he pushed himself flush against his boyfriend, took his hand and placed it directly over the centre of his chest.

“Emrys? I don’t have any scars or any really traumatic stories to tell you. My Dad died while Morgs and I were studying, and it hurt. It hurt like hell, actually. Other than that, my life has been mostly easy. But that doesn’t mean that I will see you for anything less than you are. As long as my heart is beating in my chest, Em, I swear I will do what I can to help you; and you’re hilariously wrong if you think a few scars are going to scare me away.

“If they’re part of what makes you who you are, then I adore them too. There’s no getting rid of me, Em. You’re too perfect, even with all of your imperfections.”

And after that, neither of them spoke a word. Instead, they lay skin to skin under the duvet in the old, little outhouse, and Arthur held Emrys as he fell asleep in his arms.

 

* * *

 

A few days later, Arthur was in the kitchen trying his very best to make some sort of weird tofu chicken and lemon concoction that Leon was trying to talk him through over the phone.

“Is it supposed to be on fire?” Arthur asked cautiously when the pan of onions, tofu and wine seemed to catch the flame from the hob.

“No you fucking muppet, I said simmer it! It’s a wonder you can make a sodding slice of toast without burning your house down!”

Arthur winced as he rushed the pan off the hob and waved it in the air until the flames miraculously went out.

“So are you going to tell me who the mystery lady is, then?” Leon asked, and though Arthur was expecting the question, it still caught him off guard forcing him to trip and knock his chopped pepper off the bench.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Erm, not yet. She wants to keep it secret, mate, sorry.” Arthur said. When he thought about it, he knew he was a coward.

“If you say so mate. Has your tofu started to brown around the edges yet?” Leon gave an exasperated sigh and Arthur poked the very-brown looking tofu chicken with the business end of his spatula.

“It’s mostly dark brown around the edges, yeah.” Arthur said confidently.

“Oh for goodness sake, you’ve burnt it haven’t you?!” Leon said, frustrated and Arthur tried to ignore the pungent smell of cremated food that lingered in the air.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck, Arthur?” Emrys asked from the doorway, and Arthur went into full panic mode. He hadn’t even heard to door. In his haste to end the call on his phone, he dropped the frying pan which went clattering to the floor, scattering lemon tofu and onions all over his kitchen.

“Fuck!” Arthur yelled, kicking the pan in frustration which only made matters worse.

He was about to yell something but then a pair of hands wrapped around his waist from behind and Emrys kissed the side of his neck.

“Hey, there’s no use crying over spilled tofu.” Emrys mumbled, his lips tickling Arthur’s skin as he did so.

Arthur turned into Emrys and pouted.

“Now, now; no need to get your sexy pout on, you’ll get me all excited before we even have time to eat.”

And just like that, Arthur’s mood was lifted once more. Emrys ordered takeaway while Arthur cleaned the kitchen floor and then they say barefoot in front of Arthur’s log burner. Once their pizzas had arrived and had been well and truly hoovered up, they lay bloated on the floor, their arms touching.

“Arthur?” Emrys asked, lifting a hand to rake it through his overgrown, messy hair. Arthur watched the action admirably, taking in the pale of Emrys’ arms and the way he inhaled deeper before he spoke.

“Yeah?” Arthur replied, his eyes never leaving his boyfriend’s beautiful body.

“Why do you never talk about your Dad?”

It was a question he was expecting to be asked eventually, but not right now. That was part of a relationship wasn’t it? To get to know your other half. Yet, Arthur struggled to find the words to start talking about Uther Pendragon.

As always, music was an easier way to express his emotions.

He stood slowly, and took his time as he made his way to the piano. As was habit now, Emrys sat down next to him on the piano stool.

He didn’t need to warm up for this one. It had been expertly well rehearsed. His fingers caressed the minor chords and it haunted him a little. It had been years since he had played it, but it would never leave his mind.

“Dad was incomparable, really. He was strict and very firm about certain beliefs, but he was incredible, Em. He helped Morgana and I through everything and there was never a time where he didn't pick up the phone or where he didn’t listen to us crying or shouting. He never argued, he never fought, but he did teach us how to be us.”

Arthur continued with the familiar music of _Finally Time to Sleep_ by Isaac Shephard while he fought down what he always did. He talked about his Dad quite often, actually. It just never went much further than this.

“Why this song?” Emrys asked, and Arthur almost faltered. Almost. He didn’t have to say what this song meant. He just had to look at Emrys and then they shared a nod. It wasn’t hard to figure out that this had been his Dad’s funeral song.

Almost five years ago…

“He got poorly really quick,” Arthur managed to choke out, and it was already further than he’d ever talked about it with anyone other than Morgana. “It happened while I was out.” And now he was using the music to keep him grounded, in fear of his emotions overwhelming him.

“Hey, if it’s too much we can talk about it another time?” Emrys said, resting a consolitary hand on Arthur’s thigh. But Arthur shook his head. He had to get it out before it tore him apart. It wouldn’t do to think about it without having a means of getting it out there.

But before he could speak, a sob racked through his very bones, echoing through his quiet home. He thought of Morgana playing the violin alongside him in a church full of mostly unfamiliar faces, and how he had been the only one that hadn’t cried at the service.

“It was my fault,” Arthur breathed, sniffling over his tears. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

He tried to ignore to look of horror that crossed over Emrys’ face.

“He’d said he didn’t feel well. I could have stayed home but- but I was a fucking idiot, Em. I still went out on the piss with the lads, didn’t I? We always watched football together when Arsenal played and I turned down the opportunity to watch the match with him because I wanted to get my fucking end away. I-”

“Arthur, you don’t have to-”

“I do have to!” Arthur shouted. It didn’t even sound angry; it just sounded broken. “Because if I’d have been a half-decent person I would have been there when he died. Instead, I creeped back into the house after shagging a girl I never even know the name of, and the worst bit? The worst bit was that I went straight upstairs to bed while he was lying fucking dead on the sofa. If I’d have just stayed home like I was supposed to… If I’d have-”

Arthur trailed off as his fingers slowed down, and the song came to a slow and bittersweet end. He’d said enough. His entire body rattled with shame and guilt and he didn’t dare look anywhere other than at his fingertips. He left his father to die alone.

There was a minute or so of stillness before Emrys responded. Arthur wasn’t surprised that he responded with music; because sometimes music could speak louder than words. And so he sat, motionless, and watched as Emrys’ hands wound around his own, to play one of his favourite Yiruma songs. The sweet opening of _Time Forgets_ had an immediate calming effect on his soul, and when Emrys began to hum a little harmony along to the motif, Arthur found his own fingers mirroring his boyfriend’s voice.

There was something about the way Emrys just _knew_ what to do. Despite everything that he had been through, he was somewhat of an inspiration for Arthur. He was the person who managed to keep Arthur grounded and through it all, Arthur knew that all of this, at least, was very right. Emrys was his person.

Through every note and every phrase, Emrys carried Arthur through, until their fingers were brushing over the final section together, and until the last note rung through the air around them.

Almost immediately, Emrys shut the piano and took Arthur’s hand. He walked slowly but surely up to the bedroom, where he pulled Arthur into his embrace, and Arthur cried into his shoulder.

“I think you know deep down that it wasn’t your fault, Arthur.” Emrys said softly, but Arthur didn’t have it in him to say anything in response. “People often do things at the wrong time, and this sounds like one of those situations.” Emrys shuffled back against the pillows, allowing Arthur’s head to settle in his lap.

“I miss him,” Arthur managed to whisper.

“Yeah, I know. I can’t imagine what it must be like, and I know he would have been irreplaceable. From what little you have said about him, it seems as though he was a wonderful father.”

Arthur nodded and focused his attention on the gentle hand that was caressing his cheek.

“He would have been very proud of who you’ve become, Arthur. I know that it doesn’t in any way compare to your relationship with him, but maybe one day I can start filling the empty spaces in your life because God knows you’re already doing that for me.”

Arthur looked up then, surprised by hearing those words. “I am?”

Emrys giggled at this. “Of course you are, you clotpole. You said the other day that you wished I could see myself the way you see me? Well, I wish you had a way of realising the way I feel about you, Arthur.”

There was an earnestness to Emrys’ voice that almost rendered Arthur speechless. Almost. But Arthur looked inside of himself, and at the events of his life since meeting Emrys. All of the things that happened and the way it all made him feel.

Arthur sat up then, and in a move that apparently surprised Emrys, he hooked his leg over Em’s and sat on his lap, their noses touching. He then took his boyfriend’s hand and held it over his chest.

“I think I do know how you feel.” Arthur said, and it only took the smallest, significant movement before their lips met.

It didn’t take long before their kisses went from being small and loving, to being needier and heated. There were hands and lips and tongues and teeth and Arthur could feel Emrys grinding upwards underneath him.

They had waited for the right moment, and this was it.

Arthur let his hands skim the hot skin under Emrys’ shirt before pulling it up and off. He didn’t care where he threw it, he was more focused on feeling the warmth under his hands. On feeling his incredible boyfriend in this moment of intimacy.

They undressed each other hurriedly, fumbling over each other’s hands until they were both naked and pressed against each other.

“Mmm, I must admit, thought you’d- _Mmmm-_ thought you’d be a bit more hesitant.” Emrys spoke into Arthur’s mouth.

“About what?” Arthur asked, biting at Em’s lip stud, causing him to let out a shaky breath.

“About _this,_ ” Emrys said, and on the word he ground his erection up into the swell of Arthur’s arse. Arthur didn’t even flinch. In fact, he even surprised himself when, in retaliation, he ground down on his boyfriends arousal.

“Want you too much to be anxious about it.” Arthur sighed, kissing a path to Emrys’ ear, where he took the expanded lobe between his lips and pulled.

“It’ll, _ahh,_ it’ll hurt.” Emrys spoke, his voice lower now with sheer lust.

Then Arthur pulled away and looked his boyfriend in the eyes.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Arthur asked, feigning an innocent tone.

Then, in a move that Arthur didn’t see coming, Emrys took Arthur’s chin in one hand, a leg in the other, and flipped their bodies so fast that by the time Arthur realised what had happened, his legs were bent up to his chest and Emrys was looming directly over him. And they were touching _everywhere._

Then Emrys leaned in, still tightly grasping Arthur’s chin until it almost hurt, and he kissed Arthur hard, biting lips and grinding down against Arthur’s behind. Then, in a move that was probably the single most sexy thing Arthur had ever seen in his life, Emrys pulled his hand from Arthur’s leg, and thrust three of his fingers into Arthur’s mouth.

After they had been quickly slicked with Arthur’s own spit, Emrys reached down and stroked the skin of Arthur’s cleft. His eyes darkened and dilated, and Arthur nearly came just from the sight of him.

“Oh darling, it’s a promise.” Emrys said; and then there was a stinging pain that made Arthur’s ears ring and that made him yell and grab the headboard behind him. But with the pain came the most overwhelming pleasure of being so filled.

And what surprised him wasn’t how vicious Emrys could be in bed. It was that it was turning him on more than anything ever had, and that he wanted more, and fast.

“Come on, _Em_ rys, I can take more - _ahh!-_ than this!” Arthur half-teased, half-yelled; and something in his boyfriends eyes turned animalistic.

“Yeah?” Emrys asked, almost threateningly.

And then Arthur sat up, taking Emrys’ neck in his teeth and he bit down, hard before pulling away, and thrusting himself down on Emrys’ fingers.

“Yeah.” he growled.

Emrys smiled, predatorily, and withdrew his fingers.

“Well then, let’s give you more.”

 


End file.
